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Updated: June 5, 2025
M. Fortunat hesitated somewhat. He was a quiet man, opposed to violence of any kind; and it seemed to him that M. de Valorsay was twisting and turning his cane in a most ominous manner. "I must confess, Monsieur le Marquis," he at last replied, "that I had not the courage to tell you of the dreadful misfortune which had befallen us." "How US?" "Certainly.
His companion stood for a moment as if petrified, and then suddenly exclaimed: "What! You have done that you a gentleman?" M. de Valorsay paced the floor in a state of intense agitation. Had he caught a glimpse of his own face in the looking-glass, it would have frightened him. "A gentleman!" he repeated, in a tone of suppressed rage; "a gentleman! That word is in everybody's mouth, nowadays.
"She wrote to me that the Count de Chalusse extorted from her a promise on his death-bed, that she would marry the Marquis de Valorsay." The baron sprang to his feet. "Stop," he cried "stop! We now have a clue to the truth, perhaps. Ah! so Mademoiselle Marguerite has written to you that M. de Chalusse commanded her to marry the marquis!
With such an adviser, it would be mere child's play to conceal his financial embarrassments and deceive the most suspicious father-in-law. So M. de Valorsay did not hesitate a moment. He frankly disclosed his pecuniary condition and his matrimonial hopes, and concluded by promising M. Fortunat a certain percentage on the bride's dowry, to be paid on the day following the marriage.
"I don't suppose I am sure that M. de Coralth acted in obedience to the instructions of some other scoundrel whose courage does not equal his meanness." "Perhaps so! I think he would shrink from nothing in the way of rascality. But who could have employed him in this vile work of dishonoring an honest man?" "The Marquis de Valorsay." On hearing this name, the baron bounded to his feet.
But reflection, remembrance of the Viscount de Coralth, and the Marquis de Valorsay, made him silent the noblest voice that had spoken in his soul for many a long day. So, with his head proudly erect, he went off, twirling his mustaches and followed by the whispers of the servants whispers which were ready to change into hisses at any moment.
Still, if he is telling the truth, it is impossible to explain the foul conspiracy you have suffered by." This objection had previously presented itself to Pascal's mind, and he had found an explanation which seemed to him a plausible one. "M. de Chalusse was not dead," said he, "when M. de Coralth and M. de Valorsay decided on this plan of ridding themselves of me.
M. de Valorsay was seated in the apartment he usually occupied when he remained at home a little smoking-room connected with his bedroom. He was to all intents busily engaged in examining some sporting journals. A bottle of Madeira and a partially filled glass stood near him. As the servant announced "Monsieur Maumejan!" he looked up and his eyes met Pascal's.
He followed him, first to the house of the Marquis de Valorsay, and afterward to M. Wilkie's rooms, where he remained till nearly daybreak. Thus, when Chupin presented himself in M. Fortunat's office at two o'clock on the Tuesday afternoon, he felt that he held every possible clue to the shameful intrigue which would ruin the viscount as soon as it was made public.
"And to make Mademoiselle Marguerite's life one long misery," said he, "I need only favor her marriage with the marquis. Ah, he would make her cruelly expiate the crime of her birth." "But you won't do so!" cried Pascal, in a transport, "it would be shameful; I won't allow it. Never, I swear before high Heaven! never, while I live, shall Valorsay marry Marguerite.
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