"
But M. de Coralth had kept his strongest argument until the last.
"And Pascal Ferailleur?" said he. "You have forgotten him."
No; M. de Valorsay had not forgotten him. You do not forget the
man you have ruined and dishonored. Still, it was in a careless
tone that ill accorded with his state of mind that the marquis
replied: "The poor devil must be en route for America by this
time."
The viscount shook his head. "That's what I've in vain been
trying to convince myself of," said he. "Do you know that Pascal
was virtually expelled from the Palais de Justice, and that his
name has been struck off the list of advocates? If he hasn't blown
his brains out, it is only because he hopes to prove his
innocence. Ah! if you knew him as well as I do, you wouldn't be
so tranquil in mind!"
He stopped short for the door had suddenly opened. The
interruption made the marquis frown, but anger gave way to anxiety
when he perceived Madame Leon, who entered the room out of breath
and extremely red in the face.
"There wasn't a cab to be had!" she groaned. "Just my luck. I
came on foot, and ran the whole way. I'm utterly exhausted;" and
so saying, she sank into an arm-chair.
M. de Valorsay had turned very pale. "Defer your complaints until
another time," he said, harshly. "What has happened? Tell me."
The estimable woman raised her hands to heaven, as she plaintively
replied: "There is so much to tell? First, Mademoiselle Marguerite
has written two letters, but I have failed to discover to whom
they were sent.
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