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Updated: May 6, 2025
When, an hour later, the servants entered the count's room, they found him stretched on the floor with his face against the carpet, and showing scarcely a sign of life. On leaving the Commarin house, Noel staggered up the Rue de l'Universite. It seemed to him that the pavement oscillated beneath his feet, and that everything about him was turning round.
They examined one another, they almost measured each other, much as two adversaries feel their way with their eyes before encountering with their weapons. "Sir," said the count at length in a harsh voice, "henceforth this house is yours. From this moment you are the Viscount de Commarin; you regain possession of all the rights of which you were deprived. Listen, before you thank me.
"Yes; Albert passed at my house, with me, the evening the crime was committed." Noel looked at her surprised; so singular a confession from such a mouth, without explanation, might well surprise him. She drew herself up haughtily. "I am Mademoiselle Claire d'Arlange, sir," said she. M. de Commarin now quickly ran over all the incidents reported by Claire.
"I do not pretend to justify my fault, I am only explaining it. I thought myself the most unfortunate being in the world and such I really was, since I honestly believed it when I happened to meet Arthur Gordon, your father. I saw him for the first time at a fete given at the house of the Comte de Commarin.
Madame Gerdy's brother pitied the old man, so severely tried. He held out his hand. "M. de Commarin," he said, in a grave, sad voice, "my sister forgave you long ago, even if she ever had any ill feeling against you. It is my turn to-day; I forgive you sincerely." "Thank you, sir," murmured the count, "thank you!" and then he added: "What a death!"
Too many families already have stains upon their escutcheons; I will have none on mine." M. de Commarin remained silent for several minutes, during which Albert did not dare say a word, so much had he been accustomed since infancy to respect the least wish of the terrible old gentleman. "There is no possible way out of it," continued the count.
"Pardon!" she repeated fiercely; "he has no need of pardon. Why am I only a woman? Can I not find one man who will help me? Yes," she said after a moment's reflection, "there is one man who owes himself to Albert; since he it was who put him in this position, the Count de Commarin. He is his father, and yet he has abandoned him. Ah, well! I will remind him that he still has a son."
Summon, then, all your fortitude; strengthen your noble soul against a most dreadful misfortune. No, there is no mistake. Justice has not been deceived. The Viscount de Commarin is accused of an assassination; and everything, you understand me, proves that he committed it."
It seems as though all the accomplices are passing away at the same time; for I forgot to tell you, that, just as I was leaving the Commarin mansion, I heard a servant tell another that the count had fallen down in a fit on learning the news of his son's arrest." "That will be a great misfortune for M. Gerdy." "For Noel?"
Appeal, then, I beseech you, to your memory, and try to repeat his own words as nearly as possible." M. de Commarin could do so without much difficulty. For some little time, a salutary reaction had taken place within him. His blood, excited by the persistence of the examination, moved in its accustomed course. His brain cleared itself.
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