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Updated: June 3, 2025
It had been the vicomte of whom Aube had been afraid, and with a light heart he left the apartment. "'Marquise, will you be so kind as to sing us a song?" asked Arthur, politely. Louison's modesty began to have a good influence on him, and he already regretted having assisted Talizac in his plan. Louison tuned her instrument and then began to sing a pretty little air.
Fongereues laughed hysterically. "Nonsense! My son has fought no duel," he said. "Yes with Arthur de Montferrand, whose sword pierced his heart!" Fongereues tore the cloth from the bier. Yes, it was the Vicomte de Talizac. The wretched father tried to speak. Every muscle in his face quivered. The servants fell back, shocked by all this agony. "Tell me all!" he said at last.
"Talizac! Oh! the base, cruel man. Quick! we cannot stay here. I must save Francine and Jacques. Oh! my box where is my box?" My readers must now learn how Françoise and Caillette found themselves at Leigoutte.
Talizac was a libertine, a dissipated man, and yet when he saw the sleeping girl, a feeling he could not account for overcame him. He forgot where he was, that the miserable woman at his side had helped to carry out his dastardly plans, and all his longing now was to throw himself at Louison's feet, and say to her: "I love you dearly!" "Open," he hastily ordered.
"Scoundrels," muttered Talizac, as he went away with Velletri. "If we could only do without them!" The Marquis of Fougereuse was sitting in his study, and Simon stood beside him. "So he has escaped from us again?" remarked the marquis frowning. "God knows how it happened, my lord; my plans were all so well laid that I cannot understand how the affair fell through?"
"Apologies!" repeated both gentlemen, in amazement. "You are astonished, I see, but remember that I am a mother, though I bear the name of de Fongereues. I know that my son has been greatly in the wrong. I know the whole story, and I cannot see why there should be so much said because the Vicomte de Talizac chanced to admire a daughter of the people. You talk of crime, of infamy.
"The farce is becoming uproarious," cried the Marquis of Fougereuse, nervously laughing. "Do not call it a farce; it is a drama, a terrible drama, my lord," replied Fanfaro, earnestly. "Ask your son, who is leaning pale and trembling against the wall, whether I am telling you the truth or not?" "Yes, it is a lie!" exclaimed Talizac, hoarsely.
"At last!" exclaimed Madame de Fongereues, and Madame de Talizac uttered a cry of joy. The Marquis was unmoved. "The details give us the details!" said the young Marquise. "We shall reach France through Switzerland," said the German, "and penetrate the heart of the empire. Lord Castlereagh approves of this plan and the Emperor Alexander gives it favorable consideration."
"Gentlemen," he said, "behold the body of the unhappy girl whom the Vicomte de Talizac has murdered!" There was a moment of silence, then the women screamed and fled, while the men turned pale and looked at each other. Talizac caught at the mantel for support. Fongereues had heard Arthur utter the name of Fanfar, and shuddered at the ill-omen.
A quadrille followed the polonaise, and it was a charming sight to see all these graceful women and young girls dance. Irene kept up a cross-fire of words with the vicomte and Velletri. Talizac had just whispered some gallant sentence to her, when a high officer of the Royal Life Guards appeared and handed the vicomte his commission. Great enthusiasm arose.
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