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Updated: May 24, 2025
Louison's uncle, the Marquis Jean de Fougereuse, had ended his dreary life shortly after the Vicomte de Talizac's death, and it was not difficult for Arthur, with Pierre Labarre's assistance, to maintain Louison's claims as the daughter of Jules de Fougereuse and sole heiress of the legacy.
It was, moreover, a firm, energetic, and melancholy profile. This physiognomy was strangely composed; it began by seeming humble, and ended by seeming severe. The eye shone beneath its lashes like a fire beneath brushwood. One of the men seated at the table, however, was a fishmonger who, before entering the public house of the Rue de Chaffaut, had been to stable his horse at Labarre's.
Labarre's pale face was lighted by a smile as he repeated the words: "The honor of the Fongereues family!" The Marquis shrugged his shoulders impatiently. "Cyprien," he said to his intendant, "you can leave us!" Cyprien was astonished. This was no part of the programme, but he remembered that he could return, and also that he could listen.
On the upper corner of the visiting card was a peculiar mark, and hardly had he seen it than he hurried to meet the marquis. The nobleman leaned on Pierre Labarre's arm, and returning the superintendent's greeting, he tried to speak, but his voice was broken by sobs, and so he handed the official a folded paper and looked inquiringly at him.
As soon as the door had closed behind Schwan, Simon approached the marquis. "We are alone, master," he said timidly. "Then speak; have you discovered Pierre Labarre's residence?" "Yes, master." "But you have not gone to see him yet?" "No, I kept within your orders." "You were right. I must daze the old scoundrel through my sudden appearance; I hope to get the secret from him."
As soon as the Marquis was alone with Labarre, an entire transformation took place in his manner. He seemed to throw aside a mask. He seized Labarre's hand, who shrank from the contact. "Listen to me, Pierre, and for God's sake throw aside this distrust, which is an insult to me. You were the friend and the confidant of my father, you knew his secret thoughts, and you know that he did not love me.
It appeared that a Bohemian, a bare-footed vagabond, a sort of dangerous mendicant, was at that moment in the town. He had presented himself at Jacquin Labarre's to obtain lodgings, but the latter had not been willing to take him in. He had been seen to arrive by the way of the boulevard Gassendi and roam about the streets in the gloaming. A gallows-bird with a terrible face.
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