"The marriage was very happy until the moment when my lord's father found, as was said, by chance, some devilish letters, which proved evidently that, during an absence, some three or four years after his marriage, his wife had had a tender weakness for a certain Polish count." "That often happens to the Poles. When I lived with the Marquis de Senneval, Madame the Marchioness--_une enragee_--" Boyer interrupted his companion. "You should know, my dear Edward, the alliances of our great families before you speak, otherwise you reserve for yourself cruel mistakes." "How?" "The Marchioness of Senneval is the sister of the Duke of Montbrison, where you desire to engage." "Oh!--the devil!" "Judge of the effect if you had spoken of her in this manner before the envious or detractors: you would not have remained twenty-four hours in the house." "It is true, Boyer. I will try to know the alliances." "I resume. The father of my lord discovered, then, after twelve or fifteen years of a marriage until then happy, that he had reason to complain of a Polish count. Fortunately, or unfortunately, the viscount was born nine months after his father, or rather, Saint Remy had returned from this fatal journey, so that he could not be certain whether it was his child or not. Nevertheless, the count separated at once from his wife, not wishing to touch a sou of the fortune she had brought him, and retired to the country, with about eighty thousand francs which he possessed; but you shall see the rancor of this diabolical character. Although the outrage was dated back fifteen years when he discovered it, yet he set off, accompanied by M. de Fermont, one of his relations, in pursuit of the Pole, and found him at Venice, after having sought for him in almost all the cities of Europe." "What an obstinate!" "A devilish rancor, I tell you, my dear Edward! At Venice, a terrible duel was fought, in which the Pole was killed. All was done fairly; but, my lord's father showed, they say, such ferocious joy at seeing the Pole mortally wounded, that his relation, M. de Fermont, was obliged to drag him away; the count wishing to see, as he said, his enemy expire under his eyes." "What a man! what a man!" "The count returned to Paris, went to the house of his wife, announced to her that he had just returned from killing the Pole, and left her. Since then, he has never seen her nor his son, but has lived at Angers, like a real 'wehr-wolf' as they say, with what remains of his eighty thousand francs, well curtailed, as you may suppose, by his race after this Pole. At Angers he sees no one, except the wife and daughter of his relation, M. de Fermont, who has been dead for some years. And, besides, it would seem as if this was an unfortunate family, for the brother of Madame de Fermont blew his brains out a few weeks since, it is said." "And the viscount's mother?"