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She was surprised to discover no resemblance to the youth whose memory had haunted her life; no, never would she have recognized this stranger as Gaston. As he continued to stand motionless before her, she faintly murmured: "Gaston!" He sadly shook his head, and replied: "I am not Gaston, madame. My brother succumbed to the misery and suffering of exile: I am Louis de Clameran."
He was right; Madeleine knew that after the last bold step the accomplices would remain quiet for a while; she knew resistance could have no worse results than would cowardly submission; and therefore assumed the entire responsibility of managing the affair so as to keep at bay both Raoul and Clameran. She knew that Mme.
He bowed ceremoniously, and left the room, but slammed the front door after him so violently as to prove that his restrained anger burst forth before leaving the house. Clameran had cause for fear. Mme. Fauvel's determination was not feigned. She was firm in her resolve to confess. "Yes," she cried, with the enthusiasm of a noble resolution, "yes, I will tell Andre everything!"
There is nothing to be done but gain time, and wait for an opportunity." The fall of the horse at Clameran was what Louis called "an opportunity." He closed the window, and, throwing himself upon the bed, was soon in a sound sleep; being accustomed to danger, it never kept him awake. At the breakfast-table, his calm, smiling face bore no traces of a wakeful, anxious night.
The moment that the Marquis of Clameran perceived that Raoul de Lagors was the only obstacle between him and Madeleine, he swore that the obstacle should soon be removed. That very day he took steps for the accomplishment of his purpose.
M. Fauvel had had too much experience not to instantly divine the impression produced by Prosper's answer; he read the most mortifying doubt on the faces around him. "Oh! don't be alarmed, monsieur," said he to M. de Clameran, "this house has other resources. Be kind enough to await my return."
It was well that Clameran had accompanied Raoul; for, when he got in sight of the door, his courage gave way, and he longed to retreat. "A poor, helpless woman!" he groaned, "and an honest man who pressed my hand in friendship yesterday, to be cowardly ruined, betrayed by me! Ah, it is too base! I cannot!" "Come, don't be a coward! I thought you had more nerve.
Louis de Clameran relied upon making his rival, Prosper Bertomy, furnish him this ardently desired opportunity. He loved Madeleine too passionately to feel aught save the bitterest hate toward the man whom she had freely chosen, and who still possessed her heart. Clameran knew that he could marry her at once if he chose; but in what way?
"And, if it is found, what must be done with it?" "I shall leave instructions with my notary," replied Louis. And he hurried away from Clameran as if the ground burnt his feet. He went to Tarascon, where he had already forwarded his baggage, and took the stage-coach which travelled between Marseilles and Paris, the railroad not yet being finished. At last he was off.
It was Madeleine, dancing with a splendidly dressed doge. The doge was the Marquis de Clameran. He appeared to be radiant, rejuvenated, and well satisfied with the impression he was making upon his partner; at the end of a quadrille he leaned over her, and whispered compliments with the most unbounded admiration; and she seemed to listen, if not with pleasure, at least without repugnance.
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