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A young man with a delicate black mustache, and extremely well dressed, even turned to his neighbor, and asked, "Who is our friend, the preacher?" "What! don't you know him?" replied the other. "That is the Duke of Champdoce, you know, who has married a princess of Mussidan. Quite an original." M. de Brevan, however, had remained perfectly impassive, and now said,
I come to give your mind ease, which will do you more good than all the doctor's stuff. Without in any way committing you, I have seen M. de Mussidan, and have furnished him with a valid excuse for postponing his daughter's marriage for another month. You must remain here; you could not be in a place of greater security; but even here you cannot be too cautious.
On leaving the Hotel de Mussidan, M. de Breulh-Faverlay dismissed his carriage, for he felt as a man often does after experiencing some violent emotion, the absolute necessity for exercise, and to be alone with his thoughts, and by so doing recover his self-possession. His friends would have been surprised if they had seen him pacing hurriedly along the Champs Elysees.
"And now, my dear M. Andre," said he blandly, "now that you know who I am, may I not hope that you will be more communicative?" M. de Mussidan had not told his secret to the young artist, but he had said enough for him to feel that the detective was correct in his inference.
"All my life has been one continual struggle," resumed she, "a struggle which has cost me sore; but now all is over, and to-night, for the first time for many years, Diana de Mussidan will sleep a calm and untroubled sleep."
The Count de Mussidan, so haughty and imposing, with his snow-white hair; the aristocratic-looking Marquis de Laurebourg, of whom the peasants stood in the greatest awe, were always courteous and even cordial in their salutations, while the noble dames smiled graciously upon him.
De Mussidan had had hideous doubts concerning the relations of Norbert and Diana, both before and after marriage; but his wife firmly denied this at the moment when she was revealing the other guilty secrets of her past life. He had believed that Sabine was not his child, and now he had to reproach himself with the indifference he had displayed towards her.
After lunch, Octave, who had drunk rather freely, began to rally Montlouis regarding his mysterious movements, and to assert that some woman must be at the bottom of them. At first Montlouis joined in the laugh; but at length M. de Mussidan became too personal in remarks regarding the woman his secretary loved, and Montlouis responded angrily.
Tantaine had resumed all his airs of humility, and took off his hat to the footmen as he descended the steps. "Yes," muttered he, as he walked along, "the idea was a happy one. Andre knows that he is watched, and will be careful; and now that M. de Mussidan is aware that his sweet, pure daughter has had a lover, he will be only too happy to accept the Marquis de Croisenois as his son-in-law."
"This is horrible, too horrible!" murmured Madame de Mussidan faintly. "Ah, but you do not know why I killed him, it was because the dead man had dared to tell me that the wife I adored with all the passion of my soul was unfaithful to me." Words of eager denial rose to the lips of the Countess; but her husband went on coldly, "And it was all true, for I heard all later on.
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