Giraud detailed concisely the history of De Pontis—his uniform ill luck, the present desperate situation of his affairs, and the probable destitution of Mademoiselle. Fontrailles replied that the case was distressing, but, like every other case of such description, it had originated in culpable negligence. De Pontis was so eager to avail himself of the fruits of the _droit_, that he had commenced appropriating the effects ere the necessary legal forms had been gone through—ere, indeed, it could be ascertained whether the deceased died a wealthy man or a bankrupt. “But why make my ear the receptacle of Monsieur De Pontis’ calamities—I whom, I believe, he has never exchanged a word with,” asked the count, in astonishment, “and who am neither the organ of grace or justice?” “It is to crave the intercession of Monseigneur with one who is the organ of both—to crave the intercession of the Count De Fontrailles with his eminence to cancel the penal proceedings, being, at best, a prosecution for the mere omission of a legal form which an old soldier could know nothing of,” replied the advocate. “This pleading, Monsieur Giraud,” said Fontrailles, impatiently, “may prove effective in the proper quarters, but on me it is lost. I believe you mean well, but zeal in the cause of a friend has made you overlook the ordinary usages of society, in forcing the veteran’s tale of error and distress on a stranger. I, therefore, am calmer than I might be—indeed, may remind you that, being principally employed on foreign services, and indulging, unavoidably, in some of the irregularities of those whom it falls to my duty to have affairs with, I have not perhaps that personal weight and consideration with his majesty and with his court, which attends the grave and quiet discharge of offices of trust and responsibility in Paris and the Provinces. Mine has been a life of peril, though not of military warfare—danger has often beset me in foreign lands—but here, in Paris, my services are overlooked, and the disorders incident to a life of travel commented on. It is Monsieur’s zeal for De Pontis, which I admire, that wrings this confession from me—and I would recommend his application to the Tuileries, or the _Palais Cardinal_, or, if he be seeking a patron for his client, to some personage of more austere and reverential course of life than his humble servant.” So speaking, the count rose with an air which implied that the interview should here terminate. The advocate could not but be surprised with the language and manner assumed by the dissolute, turbulent noble—his affected candor and sincerity—which he had doubtless acquired by intercourse with foreign courts—a varnish to the vices which disgraced his character.