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From what I know of her, I am inclined to think that she won't. Will she ever go to Wilkie and confess that she, Lia d'Argeles, is a Chalusse, and that he is her illegitimate son? Never! She would rather relinquish her millions, both for herself and for him, than take such a step. She is so ridiculously antiquated in her notions."
It would be a miracle if he were not. So take courage, and hope for the best, my dear Lia." She shook her head despondingly. "Do you suppose that my heart hasn't pleaded for him?" she said. "I am his mother; I can never cease to love him, whatever he may do. Even now I am ready to give a drop of blood for each tear I can save him. But I am not blind; I have read his nature. Wilkie has no heart."
In the very centre is the Forradh, or Place of Meeting, and on it is our own Lia Fail, Stone of Destiny. The one in Westminster Abbey, carried away from Scotland by Edward I., is thought by many scholars to be unauthentic, and we hope that ours may prove to have some historical value.
What possible connection could there be between opulent Baron Trigault and the poor devil who went to seek his fortune in America? What imaginable connection could there be between the confirmed gambler, who was Kami-Bey's companion, Lia d'Argeles's friend, and the husband who for ten long years had pursued the man who, by seducing his wife, had robbed him of all the happiness of life?
It seemed then as if M. de Coralth had some strange interest in wishing to gain ascendency over his friend. At least such was Chupin's opinion. "Oh, oh!" he murmured. "What if HE should be working up the same little scheme? What if he were acquainted with Madame Lia d'Argeles? What if he knew that there's a fortune waiting for a claimant?
In less than a fortnight I shall have sold my furniture and disappeared. I shall remain poor. My fortune is not so large as people suppose. No matter. My son is a man; he must learn to earn his own living." "My banking account is always at your disposal, Lia." "Thanks, my friend, thanks a thousand times; but it will not be necessary for me to accept your kind offer.
"You know that I have been infamously duped and deceived, that the happiness of my life has been destroyed by a scoundrel who tempted the wife I so fondly loved to forget her duty, and trample her honor under foot. You have heard my vows of vengeance if I ever succeeded in discovering him. Ah, well, Lia, I have discovered him.
Bless my soul! he 'ain't even got a box nothin' but a scrubby pair o' brushes as I'm alive! He ain't no shoeblack. He's a thief as purtends to black shoes, and picks pockets. Bill. You're a liar! I never picked a pocket, in my life. James. Bad language, you see! What more would you have? Tho. Who'd iver lia' thowt o' sich wickedness in a boy like that! Bill. I ain't a wicked boy, no.
The only test of a Stone of Destiny, as I understand it, is that it shall 'roar' when an Irish monarch is inaugurated; and that our Lia Fail was silent when we celebrated this impressive ceremony reflects less upon its own powers, perhaps, than upon the pedigree of our chosen Ard-ri.
"And what will become of me?" "A respected woman, Lia. You will go to England, install yourself in some pretty cottage near London, and create a new identity for yourself. The proceeds of your sale will supply your wants and Wilkie's for more than a year.
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