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Updated: May 11, 2025
The Fondeges think they can outwit me, but we shall soon see about that." The viscount was watching his companion stealthily; as the latter perceived, and so in a tone of brusque cordiality, he resumed: "Excuse me for not keeping you to breakfast, but I must go out immediately Baron Trigault is waiting for me at his house.
Well, such being the case, we'll go and ask Baroness Trigault to give us our breakfast. You will see a lovely woman." And addressing the coachman she instructed him to drive to the Trigault mansion in the Rue de la Ville l'Eveque.
She had never before so keenly felt the disgrace of her situation. She had never so clearly realized what a deep abyss she had fallen into. And this crushing humiliation came from whom? From the only friend she possessed from the man who was her only hope, Baron Trigault.
A martyr to a passion that was stronger than reason itself, the victim of a fatal love which he had not been able to drive from his heart, Baron Trigault had passed many terrible hours, but never had he been so completely crushed as at this moment when chance revealed the secret which he had vainly pursued for years.
If it hadn't been for my wretched past, which you have threatened me with like a dagger, I should long ago have left you to incur this danger alone. You were useful to me in times past, I admit. You presented me to the Baroness Trigault, to whose patronage I owe my present means, but I am paying too dearly for your services in allowing myself to be made the instrument of your dangerous schemes.
It was Baron Trigault. Like the other guests, the baron had seen the terrible effect produced upon Madame d'Argeles by a simple visiting card. But he had this advantage over the others: he thought he could divine and explain the reason of this sudden, seemingly incomprehensible terror. "The poor woman has been betrayed," he thought; "her son is here!"
Baron Trigault had a powerful hand; and M. Wilkie's attire was decidedly the worse for the encounter. He had lost his cravat, his shirt-front was crumpled and torn, and his waistcoat one of those that open to the waist and are fastened by a single button hung down in the most dejected manner.
He hastily approached Baron Trigault, and asked in a husky voice: "Will you allow me to be arrested in your house, baron? me a Valorsay!" It might have been supposed that the baron had expected this reproach, for without a word he led the marquis and M. de Coralth to a little room at the end of the hall, pushed them inside, and closed the door again.
But my wife is not a fine lady. She is simply Madame Trigault, a baroness, thanks to her husband's gold and the condescension of a worthy German prince, who was in want of money. SHE is not a person of consequence she has no rank to keep up."
He could see the baron somewhere else some other day elsewhere than at his own house, so that he need not fear the recognition of the servants. These thoughts flashed through his mind, and he was about to fly, when a harsh cry held him spell-bound. Baron Trigault was standing on the threshold.
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