"In my father's heart!" replied Mario, in whose eyes there shone an extraordinary light. He longed to pour out his heart; the mystery weighed heavily upon him; he had said the first word and he could not keep silent. "Adamas," said the marquis, moved by a sudden, indefinable emotion, "close the doors, and do you, my child, come here and speak out. You are with friends, have no fear, we will defend you, we will see that you have justice. Tell me all that you know about your family?" "If you love me," said the child, "you must punish Monsieur de Villareal, because he murdered my father." "Murdered him?" "Yes, Mercedes saw him!" "When was that?" "The day I was born, the day my mother died." "Why did he murder him?" "To get a lot of money and jewels that my father had." "Robber and assassin!" said the marquis, looking at Adamas; "a man of quality! a friend of Guillaume d'Ars! Is it conceivable?" "Monsieur," said Adamas, "children often invent stories, and I believe that this boy is making sport of us." The blood rose in Mario's cheeks. "I never tell a lie!" he said with touching vehemence. "Monsieur Anjorrant always said: 'That child is not at all untruthful.' My Mercedes always told me that I must never lie, but keep silent when I didn't wish to reply. Since you make me speak, I say what is true." "He is right," exclaimed the marquis, "and I see that he has noble blood in his heart, the beautiful boy!--Say on, I believe you. Tell me what your father's name was." "Ah! that I do not know." "On your honor, my boy?" "It is the truth," replied the child; "my mother's name was Marie, that is all I know, and that is why Monsieur Anjorrant gave me the name of Mario when he baptized me." "But I remember that Mercedes said that the lady gave the curé a wedding ring," said Adamas; "she also spoke of a seal." "Yes," said Mario, "the seal belonged to my father, there was a coat of arms on it: but it was stolen from us not long ago. As for the ring, neither Monsieur Anjorrant, nor my Mercedes, who is very clever, nor I, nor anybody has ever been able to open it. But there's something inside. My mother, who died without saying a word except her name, Marie, motioned to the curé to open her ring. She had not the strength to do it; but he could not." "Go and get it," said the marquis, "perhaps we can do it." "Oh! no," replied Mario in dismay; "my Mercedes won't like it, and, if she knows that I have spoken, she will be very sorry." "But, after all, why does she conceal all this from us, who may be able to help her to find your family?" "Because she thinks that you will listen to the Spaniard, and that he will kill her if he learns that she has recognized him." "But does he not recognize her?" "He never saw her, for she was hiding." "Has she ever seen him since that terrible business?" "No, never." "And, after ten years, she feels sure that she can identify him! It is very doubtful."