He saw himself receiving an envelope directed in the marquis's well-known hand, which contained a receipt for nearly three million francs deposited to his account in the Bank of France. It was Jaubourg's fortune. And he felt again the beating of the heart that he had had when, after much reflection, he went to a priest at the church of Saint-François Xavier, who was Madame Olier's confessor. What a contrast to the morning when, jumping from his automobile, he ascended the steps of the same church, to throw the chauffeur off the scent! He entered the church on this second occasion, beset by more serious anxieties than that of assuring the secrecy of his visits to Rue Monsieur! He had gone thither to request the priest to be his intermediary in an anonymous gift of that money to the "Society for the Relief of Soldiers Wounded in the Armies of Sea and Shore." How proud he had been and how hopeful, when, a week later, that difficult project once realized, he had been able to send with his own hand to M. de Claviers, in a letter, the documents which attested that investment! This "French Red Cross" was still the army. How sad he had been when the marquis did not reply! Nor had he replied to a second letter, in which Landri informed him of his wedding and the date of his sailing. And the young man saw himself, too, in one of the chapels of the same church of Saint-François, kneeling before the altar with Madame Olier, in the presence of no others than his wife's two witnesses, relations from the provinces, and his own two, Captain Despois and Lieutenant Vigouroux. Last of all, he saw himself writing to the Marquis de Claviers a last letter, in which he set down the details of his journey: the date of his arrival at London, the length of his stay and the address of his hotel; the date of his arrival at Liverpool and the address of his hotel there, and the day and hour of sailing; and he told him also the name he had chosen among the ancient patronymics of the Candales--Saint-Marc. When he signed "M. and Mme. de Saint-Marc" on the hotel register at London, for the first time, what a strange emotion had assailed him, made up of relief and of sorrow together! And he had said to himself, possessed still by the persistent image of the man whose son he had for so many years believed himself to be: "The word of farewell that he denied to Landri de Claviers, who was not a Claviers, he will not deny to Landri de Saint-Marc, who, through his mother, is a genuine Saint-Marc."