“At length,” resumed Noel, after a rather long pause, “I asked him what he proposed doing. ‘Listen,’ he said, ‘I expect my father in about eight or ten days. You will allow me this delay. As soon as he returns I will have an explanation with him, and justice shall be done. I give you my word of honour. Take back your letters and leave me to myself. This news has utterly overwhelmed me. In a moment I lose everything: a great name that I have always borne as worthily as possible, a magnificent position, an immense fortune, and, more than all that, perhaps, the woman who is dearer to me than life. In exchange, it is true, I shall find a mother. We will console each other. And I will try, sir, to make her forget you, for she must love you, and will miss you.’” “Did he really say that?” “Almost word for word.” “Hypocrite!” growled the old fellow between his teeth. “What did you say?” asked Noel. “I say that he is a fine young man; and I shall be delighted to make his acquaintance.” “I did not show him the letter referring to the rupture,” added Noel; “it is best that he should ignore Madame Gerdy’s misconduct. I voluntarily deprived myself of this proof, rather than give him further pain.” “And now?” “What am I to do? I am waiting the count’s return. I shall act more freely after hearing what he has to say. Tomorrow I shall ask permission to examine the papers belonging to Claudine. If I find the letters, I am saved; if not,--but, as I have told you, I have formed no plan since I heard of the assassination. Now, what do you advise?” “The briefest counsel demands long reflection,” replied the old fellow, who was in haste to depart. “Alas! my poor boy, what worry you have had!” “Terrible! and, in addition, I have pecuniary embarrassments.” “How! you who spend nothing?” “I have entered into various engagements. Can I now make use of Madame Gerdy’s fortune, which I have hitherto used as my own? I think not.” “You certainly ought not to. But listen! I am glad you have spoken of this; you can render me a service. “Very willingly. What is it?” “I have, locked up in my secretary, twelve or fifteen thousand francs, which trouble me exceedingly. You see, I am old, and not very brave, if any one heard I had this money--” “I fear I cannot--” commenced the advocate. “Nonsense!” said the old fellow. “To-morrow I will give them to you to take care of.” But remembering he was about to put himself at M. Daburon’s disposal, and that perhaps he might not be free on the morrow, he quickly added, “No, not to-morrow; but this very evening. This infernal money shall not remain another night in my keeping.” He hurried out, and presently reappeared, holding in his hand fifteen notes of a thousand francs each. “If that is not sufficient,” said he, handing them to Noel, “you can have more.” “Anyhow,” replied the advocate, “I will give you a receipt for these.” “Oh! never mind. Time enough to-morrow.” “And if I die to-night?”