And he held out his hand to Noel, who pressed it, bowing a respectful acknowledgment. The advocate took a long breath. At last he had found the way to this haughty noble’s heart; he had conquered, he had pleased him. “Let us return to yourself, sir,” continued the count. “I yield to the reasons which you have suggested. All shall be done as you desire. But do not consider this a precedent. I never change my plans, even though they are proved to be bad, and contrary to my interests. But at least nothing prevents your remaining here from to-day, and taking your meals with me. We will, first of all, see where you can be lodged, until you formally take possession of the apartments which are to be prepared for you.” Noel had the hardihood to again interrupt the old nobleman. “Sir,” said he, “when you bade me follow you here, I obeyed you, as was my duty. Now another and a sacred duty calls me away. Madame Gerdy is at this moment dying. Ought I to leave the deathbed of her who filled my mother’s place?” “Valerie!” murmured the count. He leaned upon the arm of his chair, his face buried in his hands; in one moment the whole past rose up before him. “She has done me great harm,” he murmured, as if answering his thoughts. “She has ruined my whole life; but ought I to be implacable? She is dying from the accusation which is hanging over Albert our son. It was I who was the cause of it all. Doubtless, in this last hour, a word from me would be a great consolation to her. I will accompany you, sir.” Noel started at this unexpected proposal. “O sir!” said he hastily, “spare yourself, pray, a heart-rending sight. Your going would be useless. Madame Gerdy exists probably still; but her mind is dead. Her brain was unable to resist so violent a shock. The unfortunate woman would neither recognise nor understand you.” “Go then alone,” sighed the count, “go, my son!” The words “my son,” pronounced with a marked emphasis, sounded like a note of victory in Noel’s ears. He bowed to take his leave. The count motioned him to wait. “In any case,” he said, “a place at table will be set for you here. I dine at half-past six precisely. I shall be glad to see you.” He rang. His valet appeared. “Denis,” said he, “none of the orders I may give will affect this gentleman. You will tell this to all the servants. This gentleman is at home here.” The advocate took his leave; and the count felt great comfort in being once more alone. Since morning, events had followed one another with such bewildering rapidity that his thoughts could scarcely keep pace with them. At last, he was able to reflect.