It would assure my position at once.
Certainly something must have happened!"
This last remark was by no means a proof of any remarkable
perspicuity on M. Wilkie's part. As M. de Coralth never went to
bed until two or three o'clock in the morning, he was by no means
an early riser, and only some very powerful reason could explain
the presence of his blue-lined brougham in the street before nine
o'clock A.M. And the influence that had made him rise betimes in
the present case had indeed been extremely powerful. Although the
brilliant viscount had discovered Madame d'Argeles's secret,
several months previously, he had so far disclosed it to no one.
It was certainly not from any delicacy of feeling that he had held
his peace; but only because it had not been for his interest to
speak. Now, however, the sudden death of the Count de Chalusse
changed the situation. He heard of the catastrophe at his club on
the evening after the count's death, and his emotion was so great
that he actually declined to take part in a game of baccarat that
was just beginning. "The devil!" he exclaimed. "Let me think a
moment. Madame d'Argeles is the heiress of all these millions--
will she come forward and claim them? From what I know of her, I
am inclined to think that she won't. Will she ever go to Wilkie
and confess that she, Lia d'Argeles, is a Chalusse, and that he is
her illegitimate son? Never! She would rather relinquish her
millions, both for herself and for him, than take such a step.
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