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Updated: June 29, 2025
"Talizac," she said, "remember that your life and the lives of the Fongereues belong to the king." Talizac bowed low, and as he turned he gave Irène a look of triumph. She, poor girl, knew that her fate was sealed. "How happy you will be!" whispered her mother, tenderly. "Happy!" repeated Irène, drearily. But this was not all. The Royal Envoy had not completed his mission.
While Fongereues, crushed under the weight of his remorse, was thus announcing his last wishes, another scene was taking place in the hospital. Gudel and Bobichel had applied for Fanfar's body. "Too late!" answered the concierge. And the two men heard with consternation that Fanfar had been taken away. And where? No one knew. Delay was inevitable.
He started back, for he saw before him the living image of the old Marquis de Fongereues. He must know the truth at any price. He fought against his fatigue, and just as Fanfar was about to leap into the saddle, the Marquis pressed the animal with his knee, and the animal was off like the wind. Fanfar believed that the horse had ran away.
It is twenty-five years since my father the Comte de Maillezais took me in his arms and, pointing toward Paris, said, 'Child! remember that the day will come when these men will kill their king, as they have forced your father to fly for his life. Monsieur Fongereues, do you hear?
"I know but one Marquis de Fongereues!" he said, slowly. "And who may that be?" asked the Marquis, bringing his closed hand down upon the table. "The son of the man who was murdered in 1815, in the village of Leigoutte!" answered Labarre, with perfect calmness. "Murdered! That man fell when fighting against the true masters of France!"
Labarre said, in a low voice, "The men will come up with a bier." In a few minutes Fanfar's body was carried to the Hôtel de Fongereues and laid by the side of the Vicomte. Labarre made no attempt to resist this caprice of the Marquis. The old servant, now that De Fongereues showed such humility and grief, had become his devoted servant.
It was the brother whom you hated. Your victim was dead and he married her sister, and later, when you set the Cossacks on the village of Leigoutte and bade them to kill women and children, there was one child named Jacques and that child was your son." Fongereues was deadly pale; large drops stood on his brow. "You lie!" cried the Marquis, "Fanfar was my brother's son."
Write to the Society that before five days have elapsed you will have fulfilled the conditions imposed." "That would be folly!" "Is not Fanfar in prison?" "What of that? He will not be condemned." "By the judges, possibly not but by us." Fongereues held himself more erect. "Tell me what you mean, Cyprien?" he asked. The lacquey laughed. "I mean simply, that I will kill this Fanfar!"
And our father, who hated us, as you know, left the larger part of his fortune in the care of a fanatical body-servant of his, who held it as in trust for Simon's son whenever he should find him. He refused to relinquish this trust until he had proof of the death of the youth. Now he must be made to speak, for the only heir of the Fongereues fortune is myself, and I shall appeal to the law."
I have made the most careful search without the smallest success, though I had no difficulty in finding this house." "Ah! it was you, then, who discovered my retreat?" And Labarre shook his head. "That is enough!" interposed the Marquis. "Labarre, all this is useless. Give me your attention. I am about to speak of the honor of the Fongereues family."
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