You ought to have made me a laborer, and not a
spoiled idler, incapable of earning an honest livelihood. As the
son of a poor, betrayed, and deserted woman, with whom I could
have shared my scanty earnings, I might have looked the world
proudly in the face. But where can the son of Lia d'Argeles hide
his disgrace after playing the gentleman for twenty years with Lia
d'Argeles's money?" Yes, Wilkie would certainly say this if he
ever learned the truth; and he would learn it--she felt sure of
it. How could she hope to keep a secret which was known to Baron
Trigault, M. Patterson, the Viscount de Coralth, and M. Fortunat--
four persons! She had confidence in the first two; she believed
she had a hold on the third, but the fourth--Fortunat!
The hours went by; and still Job did not return. What was the
meaning of this delay? Had he failed to find the baron? At last
the sound of carriage-wheels in the courtyard made her start.
"That's Job!" she said to herself. "He brings the baron."
Alas! no. Job returned alone. And yet the honest fellow had
spared neither pains nor horseflesh. He had visited every place
where there was the least probability of finding the baron, and he
was everywhere told that Baron Trigault had not been seen for
several days. "In that case, you ought to have gone to his house.
Perhaps he is there," remarked Madame d'Argeles.
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