M.
Wilkie will acquaint you with his intentions by and by."
The valet thereupon backed out of the room, bowing profoundly.
"There is a story for you!" exclaimed M. Wilkie as soon as the
door was closed. "A robbery of two millions!"
The marquis shook his head, and remarked, gravely: "That's a mere
nothing. I suspect something far more terrible."
"What, pray? Upon my word! you frighten me."
"Wait! I may be mistaken. Even the doctor may lie deceived. But
you shall judge for yourself." As he spoke, he pulled the bell-
rope, and an instant after, the servant announced: "Dr. Jodon."
It was, indeed, the same physician who had annoyed Mademoiselle
Marguerite by his persistent curiosity and impertinent questions,
at the Count de Chalusse's bedside; the same crafty and ambitious
man, constantly tormented by covetousness, and ready to do
anything to gratify it--the man of the period, in short, who
sacrificed everything to the display by which he hoped to deceive
other people, and who was almost starving in the midst of his mock
splendor.
M. Casimir was an innocent accomplice, but the doctor knew what he
was doing. Interviewed on behalf of the Marquis de Valorsay by
Madame Leon, he had fathomed the whole mystery at once. These two
crafty natures had read and understood each other. No definite
words had passed between them--they were both too shrewd for that;
and yet, a compact had been concluded by which each had tacitly
agreed to serve the other according to his need.
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