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Updated: June 3, 2025
I chastised him, and he stabbed me." "He lies! He is crazy!" cried the vicomte, in despair. But none of those who had a quarter of an hour before overwhelmed him with congratulations condescended to look at the wretch, and with a moan Talizac sank back in a chair.
"They are notes, forged by the Vicomte, your son!" "Talizac a forger! Impossible!" "I assure you that it is only too true. Once more, let me ask for your decision." "I beg you to remember that my devotion to the Society is unalterable. But a million you know!" "You understand," repeated Vellebri, "it is a million that is demanded?" "Yes, I know. Grant me a little time."
They must have misunderstood the servant, who now pointed to the stairs, up which were coming men bearing a bier. What was underneath the cloth? Was it their son? Impossible! A young man appeared. Magdalena rushed toward him, without a word. The youth bowed his head. "Yes, he is dead. Monsieur de Talizac has been killed in a duel!" Magdalena sank upon the floor, unconscious.
La Roulante made no reply to this gentle address, and Talizac, with blood-stained face and torn clothing, entered the house, followed by Fernando, who was as dignified and correct in costume as he always was. When Talizac reached the salon, he dropped into a chair. "Water! for the love of Heaven, give me some water!" he murmured. He felt almost ill, and would have been glad of a few hours of rest.
"I speak of the Vicomte de Talizac, who is dishonoring himself, dishonors you, and compromises the cause to which you belong!" "My son is young if he has committed some peccadillo " "Peccadillo is hardly the word to use. Are you thus lenient toward one who is some day to bear your name?"
An old man, with head uncovered and long, white hair, stood there. "The Vicomte de Talizac is dead!" whispered one of the servants. The stranger started, and, with a compassionate look, laid his hand on the shoulder of the Marquis, who was kneeling by the body of his son. The Marquis looked up and shrank back, saying: "Pierre Labarre!" It was, indeed, the old servant, sad eyed and hopeless.
"Yes, one would think so. I have kept my valet on the watch, and discovered that he came every day to the Café de Valois at this hour " "My dear Talizac, I can put an end to all your difficulties. If Mademoiselle de Salves has built up a pretty romance, I can banish her dreams by telling her the name of her lover. Your rival, my dear fellow, is or was rather, a mountebank, and his name is Fanfar."
The villain who did it is a bad man, who has already crossed our path." "And his name?" "Vicomte de Talizac." "Talizac? Has this family got a thousand devils in its service? It was the vicomte's father, the Marquis of Fougereuse, who wished to kill us at Sainte-Ame; his steward ran to Remiremont to get the police." "Like father like son.
From the time that the old Countess of Salves had informed the Marquise of Fougereuse that under existing circumstances a marriage between her daughter and the Vicomte de Talizac was out of the question, violent scenes had taken place in the Fougereuse mansion.
Where had Pierre Labarre found all this out? "The nobleman left the cottage like a thief in the night, and left behind him despair and shame," continued Pierre; "and this despair increased when the unhappy victim of the Vicomte de Talizac gave birth to a son, about the commencement of the year 1805 " "Go on! What else?" asked Fougereuse, mockingly, as Pierre paused.
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