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Updated: June 27, 2025
As the chateau is fast approaching the condition of the furniture, and my fortune does not permit me to repair it, I will sell it before the walls crumble away." Joseph could scarcely believe his ears. He regarded the selling of the chateau of Clameran as a sacrilege; but he was not bold of speech, like his father, so he dared not express an opinion.
I will finish the story. "On leaving Mihonne, who had given him a full account of the misfortunes of Mlle. Valentine de la Verberie, Clameran hastened to London. "He had no difficulty in finding the farmer's wife to whom the old countess had intrusted Gaston's son. "But here an unexpected disappointment greeted him.
"You must confess, monsieur," she said, "that I have shown great patience." This imperturbable assurance amazed Louis. "I do not deny," she continued, "that I at one time possessed the confidence of M. Gaston de Clameran. I will prove it by restoring to you your mother's jewels, with which he intrusted me on his departure."
The poor young man, not comprehending the intricate moves of M. Verduret, felt as if he were being tossed about from pillar to post, and made the tool and laughing-stock of everybody. "What!" he cried; "this worthless Marquis of Clameran, an assassin and a thief, allowed to visit at M. Fauvel's, and pay his addresses to Madeleine? Where are the promises, monsieur, which you have made?
Although Madeleine had resigned herself to sacrifice, it was still evident that she had no idea of doing so blindly, and would not hazard her aunt's and her own happiness upon the uncertainty of a verbal promise. Clameran racked his brain to furnish guarantees; how could he convince her that Raoul had no idea or desire of annoying Mme. Fauvel in the future?
Jean, who owned a little house near Clameran, and would continue to live in the neighborhood. Poor St. Jean! little did he think that, in preventing Valentine from seeing Louis, he had ruined the prospects of his beloved Gaston. On receiving the keys he asked one question: "Shall we not search for your brother's body, M. the marquis?" he inquired in broken-hearted tones.
He was as yet not sufficiently experienced in ruffianism to know that one villain always sacrifices another to advance his own projects; he was credulous enough to believe in the adage, "there's honor among thieves." His rage was naturally mingled with fright, well knowing that his life hung by a thread, when it was threatened by a daring scoundrel like Clameran.
The provoking looks, the murmurs, or rather shouts, which welcomed him as he walked up to Lazet, proved to Gaston that he was surrounded by enemies. The wickedness and evil tongue of the old marquis were bearing their fruit. Rancor ferments quickly and fiercely among the people of Provence. Gaston de Clameran was not a man to yield, even if his foes were a hundred, instead of fifteen or twenty.
"We have had enough of this gossip," he said, in a disdainful tone; "I will only say one thing more, master clown, and that is, that your tongue is too long." "Perhaps it is, my pretty youth, perhaps it is; but my arm is still longer." De Clameran here interrupted them by saying: "It is impossible for one to seek an explanation from a man who conceals his identity under the guise of a fool."
She saw that this man did indeed know all. How? It little mattered. He certainly knew; but she determined to deny everything, even the most positive proofs, if he should produce them. For an instant she had an idea of ordering the Marquis of Clameran to leave the house; but prudence stayed her. She thought it best to discover how much he really knew.
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