His habit of inductive reasoning began to work anew, and in that moment of supreme agony, he made use of what he knew to guess the rest. Letters had been stolen. What letters? Those which referred to the birth of the child of Jaubourg and Madame de Claviers. They were afraid of blackmail. What sort of blackmail? That which the will suggested. And he said aloud, changing from questioned to questioner, to suppliant rather, he trembled so with anxiety as he made this appeal to his playmate in childhood:-- "I gave you my word just now; give me your word that you did not believe that my father was capable of that.--You don't answer? Then it must be that you did believe it. And yet you and Monsieur de Claviers are not cruel. You believed that? Why? I must know. I must know everything, everything, everything, and first of all the real reason why my father and Monsieur de Claviers parted. I am a man, Landri, and I am addressing another man. What was the reason? Tell me." "You are well aware that I was not here," Landri replied. "I know nothing positive." "Yes or no, did you hear any talk of dishonesty?" "I heard something said of confusion in Monsieur de Claviers' affairs," said Landri. "But I give you my word on this--that this matter of Jaubourg's papers, as to which I wanted to obtain your testimony, had no connection whatever with the reasons that may have led Monsieur de Claviers to dispense with Monsieur Chaffin's services." He was only too well aware, when he made this indefinite reply, that the craving for knowledge with which the other was consumed demanded a reply of a very different tenor. But he could not answer yes or no. He had suffered too keenly when he learned of his mother's sin to allow his lips to form words which should inform a son of his father's crime. Nor would his sense of honor permit him to be lavish of denials. Indeed, what was the use? When he decided upon this step, he had had no means of divining that Pierre's mind was already disturbed, so that he had immediately read into his question a meaning that was only too dear. This altogether unforeseen result of their interview created in Landri's mind the impression of an inevitable destiny, which he had felt many times since his visit to his real father's death-bed, and he was, as it were, paralyzed by it. Was that impression shared by the physician, or was the poor fellow afraid of learning more? The evasive reply returned by his interlocutor to so pitilessly precise a question seemed to have overwhelmed him. He questioned him no further. After a few moments of exceedingly painful silence, Landri rose. The other did not try to detain him, and the young men parted, just touching each other's fingers, and almost afraid to look at each other.