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Updated: June 23, 2025
Seizing him roughly by the arm, and closing the door with a kick, he dragged Wilkie back into the little drawing-room. "Yes, it's I," he said, curtly. "It's I come to inquire if you have gone mad?" "Viscount!" "I can find no other explanation of your conduct! What! You choose Madame d'Argeles's reception day, and an hour when there are fifty guests in her drawing-room to present yourself!"
I shall take him money or fair promises, I shall be well received, and I have a plan " He was interrupted by a rap at the door. The next moment a footman entered, and informed his master that a messenger wished to speak to him on urgent business. "Let him come in," said the baron. It was Job, Madame Lia d'Argeles's confidential servant, who entered the room.
He had only needed a glance to form a true estimate of Madame d'Argeles's character; and he realized that it would require a sudden, powerful, and well-directed blow to shatter her composure. "I have the unpleasant duty of informing you of a great misfortune, madame," he began.
"She is going to meet her son; and with what he has stolen they will live like princes in America." Rumor, which enlarges and misrepresents everything, had, indeed, absurdly exaggerated the affair at Madame d'Argeles's house.
"If I present him with a fortune, the simpleton ought certainly to give me some reward." But to carry this plan into execution it would be necessary to brave Madame d'Argeles's anger; and that was attended by no little danger. If he knew something about her, she on her side knew everything connected with his past life. She had only to speak to ruin him forever.
Madame d'Argeles's coachman, who had received his orders, now drove down the Champs Elysees, again crossed the Place de la Concorde, turned into the boulevards, and stopped short at the corner of the Chaussee d'Antin, where, having tied a thick veil over her face, Madame Lia abruptly alighted and walked away.
"Very well; I will wait for him, then. Take me to a room where I can sit down." Pascal turned pale, for he recognized the voice of the individual who had suggested searching him at Madame d'Argeles's house.
This sudden change of residence, this departure which so strongly resembled flight, this cold greeting when he expected passionate reproaches, seemed to indicate that Madame d'Argeles's resolution would successfully resist any amount of entreaty on his part. "The devil," he remarked, "I don't think this at all pleasant! What is to become of me?
"Viscounts of his stamp don't parade their addresses in the directory. Still, I shall find him." However, although he expressed this conviction he went off decidedly out of temper. "I shall lose the entire evening hunting up the rascal's address," he grumbled, as he hastened homeward. "And whom shall I ask for it? Madame d'Argeles's concierge? Would he know it M. Wilkie's servant?
Coralth was the traitor who, in obedience to Valorsay's orders, ruined the man who loved Mademoiselle Marguerite. The deed was done at Madame d'Argeles's house. So Coralth knows her, and knows her secret. It's he who has outwitted me."
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