“I will, if you persist in such an absurd idea. You ought to have sense
enough to know that the baron would kick Serpillon out of the house, and
that you would only cover yourself with ridicule. So, between your duel
and my help make your choice, and quickly.”
The prospect of sending his seconds to demand satisfaction from Baron
Trigault was certainly a very attractive one. But, on the other hand,
Wilkie could not afford to dispense with M. de Coralth’s services. “But
the baron has insulted me,” he urged.
“Well, you can demand satisfaction when you obtain possession of your
property: but the least scandal now would spoil your last chances.”
“I will abandon the project, then,” sighed Wilkie, despondently; “but
pray advise me. What do you think of my situation?”
M. de Coralth seemed to consider a moment, and then gravely replied:
“I think that, UNASSISTED, you have no chance whatever. You have no
standing, no influential connections, no position--you are not even a
Frenchman.”
“Alas! that is precisely what I have said to myself.”
“Still, I am convinced that with some assistance you might overcome your
mother’s resistance, and even your father’s pretentions.”
“Yes, but where could I find protectors?”
The viscount’s gravity seemed to increase. “Listen to me,” said he; “I
will do for you what I would not do for any one else. I will endeavor to
interest in your cause one of my friends, who is all powerful by reason
of his name, his fortune, and his connections--the Marquis de Valorsay,
in fact.”
“The one who is so well known upon the turf?”
“The same.”
“And you will introduce me to him?”
“Yes. Be ready to-morrow at eleven o’clock, and I will call for you and
take you to his house. If he interests himself in your cause, it is as
good as gained.” And as his companion overwhelmed him with thanks,
he rose, and said: “I must go now. No more foolishness, and be ready
to-morrow at the appointed time.”
Thanks to the surprising mutability of temper which was the most
striking characteristic of his nature, M. Wilkie was already consoled
for his blunder.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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