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Updated: June 1, 2025
At first the name of the Duke de Morlay had fallen like a pebble in the stream and began to ripple the waters; a spreading circle of thoughts, fears, resentments began to move in every heart. The philosopher himself was troubled, for he had been prompted by Maurice to observe the assiduous attractions of the Duke, and the agitation he caused Esperance whenever they had been together.
Albert saw him and held out a hand which the Duke pressed gently, bending his head. The Count signed to the seconds to withdraw. "I was wrong, Duke," he murmured. "My love had blinded my wisdom with the heavy mask of egoism. On the threshold of eternity the truth seems clearer. Forgive me, De Morlay, as I forgive you." He choked. The Doctor came forward.
She strengthened herself desperately. "You do not need to do anything for it, alas!" And she fled. When the Count came to find her, there was only the Duke talking to the stage hands. "Where is Esperance?" "I have no idea," replied Charles de Morlay dryly. Albert turned on his heel, delighted to see the Duke out of humour.
The Duke de Morlay was standing behind the Marquis, who was still at the whist table. Albert Styvens had sat down beside a diplomat from Italy, Cesar Gabrielli, a serious young man, a clever diplomat, and a renowned fencer. When Montagnac finished his hand, the Duke offered him a cigar. "Will you help me with some arrangements for the performance to-morrow?"
The Prince de Bernecourt had had to once more take up his post, but his wife had stayed to keep her friend company, and because she loved the "little Darbois," as she called her. The Duke de Morlay was visiting friends whose Chateau was about an hour's journey away. He came every day for news from the Duchess, and from his goddaughter Jeanette. A month went by.
The cause of your duel is a secret that I shall never seek to know. May God pardon my son and free you from all remorse. I go to my daughter, all I have left to love and protect." It was evident that the noble woman was making a great effort; the last words of her son were still ringing in her brain. De Morlay knelt and watched the Countess disappear into the room.
Doctor Potain, who was looking at his watch, now chimed in with, "My dear Duke, we must be thinking of leaving; the boat will not wait for us." Charles de Morlay thanked his farm hosts, and after bowing elegantly over Mme. Darbois's hand, looked for Esperance. "Jean," said Professor Darbois, "look and see if you can find Esperance, and tell her to come and say good-bye to our dear Doctor."
"Mother, dear mother, forgive me.... I leave you Esperance, who will take my place with you. Forgive the Duke de Morlay the pain he has caused you. Our quarrel was so deep, we could only settle it by arms. It was I, I, who precipitated matters. The Duke acted like an honourable gentleman. Oh! do not weep, mother, do not weep!"
"If you will allow me, Madame," he said boldly, "I should like to contribute my mite to your fete by painting the scenery?" The Princess clapped her hands with delight at the suggestion and this new support. "How pleased my cousin de Morlay will be," she exclaimed. "He has just been saying to me, 'For the scenery we shall require a painter, a real artist."
Williams himself, and the firm of Samuel Morlay and Company. The young man to-day comes fresh from the pure air and clear lavish sunshine of his country home, where summer's flower-decked green is a continuous feast, and winter's glories a delight no less.
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