"I do not pretend to justify my fault, I am only explaining it. I
thought myself the most unfortunate being in the world--and such I
really was, since I honestly believed it--when I happened to meet
Arthur Gordon, your father. I saw him for the first time at a
fete given at the house of the Comte de Commarin. How he, a mere
adventurer, had succeeded in forcing his way into the most
exclusive society in the world, is a point which I have never been
able to explain. But, alas! it is only too true that when our
glances met for the first time, my heart was stirred to its inmost
depths; I felt that it was no longer mine--that I was no longer
free! Ah! why does not God allow a man's face to reflect at least
something of his nature? This man, who was a corrupt and audacious
hypocrite, had that air of apparent nobility and frankness which
inspires you with unlimited confidence, and the melancholy
expression on his features seemed to indicate that he had known
sorrow, and had good cause to rail at destiny. In his whole
appearance there was certainly a mysterious and fatal charm. I
afterward learned that this was only a natural result of the wild
life he had led. He was only twenty-six, and he had already been
the commander of a slave ship, and had fought in Mexico at the
head of one of those guerilla bands which make politics an excuse
for pillage and murder.
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