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Updated: June 18, 2025
"But, since you cannot tell me who he is, you must be content that we speak of him at least as Lesperon," said he, and I could imagine the evil grin with which he would accompany the words.
"Mon Dieu!" I cried, "will the world never forget that indiscretion? An indiscretion of youth, no doubt much exaggerated outside Court circles." The Vicomte eyed me in some astonishment for a moment. "Monsieur de Lesperon," he said at length, "you appear to hold this Bardelys in high esteem. He has a staunch supporter in you and a stout advocate. Yet me you cannot convince."
Frankness was my best friend in dealing with Castelroux frankness and his distaste for the business they had charged him with. As for Marsac and Lesperon, they were both eager enough to have the mystery explained, and when Castelroux having consented I invited them to my chamber, they came readily enough.
"Will you not tell me? Have you no faith in me? Ah, Monsieur de Lesperon " "'Sh! child, I cannot. It is too late to tell you now." "Oh, not too late! From what you say they will tell me, I should think, perhaps, worse of you than you deserve. What is this thing you hide? What is this mystery? Tell me, monsieur. Tell me."
"Speaking of Bardelys, Monsieur de Lesperon " "My dear Chevalier, we were no longer speaking of him." He smiled darkly. "Let us speak of him, then." "But are there not a thousand more interesting things that we might speak of?" This he took for a fresh sign of fear, and so he pressed what he accounted his advantage.
It was not merely a matter of telling her of the wager I was embarked upon; not merely a matter of telling her of the duplicity that I had practised, of the impostures by which I had gained admittance to her father's confidence and trust; not merely a matter of confessing that I was not Lesperon. There would still be the necessity of saying who I was.
But before I could utter a word, "What the devil does this mean?" he asked, eyeing me with fierce suspicion. "It means, monsieur, that there are more Lesperons than one in France. I am the Lesperon who was at Lavedan. If you doubt me, ask this gentleman, who arrested me there last night. Ask him, too, why we have halted here.
Would he who had cheated at the dealing of the cards neglect an opportunity to cheat again during the progress of the game? As I have said, I had it in my mind to cry out that he lied that I was not Lesperon; that he knew I was Bardelys. But the futility of such an outcry came to me simultaneously with the thought of it.
Since Monsieur de Lesperon did not recognize me, there was no reason why I should enlighten him touching my identity, and every reason why I should not. As soon as they were seated, I went to the heart of the matter at once and without preamble. "A fortnight ago, gentlemen," said I, "I was driven by a pack of dragoons across the Garonne.
The Vicomte's brow was black with what might have appeared anger, but which I rightly construed into apprehension. "What has taken place? What have you done?" he asked of me. "He has brutally assaulted the Chevalier," cried Madame shrilly, her eyes malevolently set upon me. "He is only a child, this poor Saint-Eustache," she reproached me. "I saw it all from my window, Monsieur de Lesperon.
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