She looked around to assure herself that they were entirely alone.
“It was not a dream, Jack. You were three years old when we came from Algiers. Your father died suddenly, and we came back to Tours.”
“What was my father’s name?”
She hesitated, much agitated, for she was not prepared for this sudden curiosity; and yet she could not refuse to answer these questions.
“He was called by one of the grandest names in France, my child—by a name that you and I would bear to-day if a sudden and terrible catastrophe had not prevented him from repairing his fault. Ah, we were very young when we met! I must tell you that at that time I had a perfect passion for the chase. I remember a little Arabian horse called Soliman—”
She was gone, at full speed, mounted on this horse, and Jack made no effort to interrupt her—he knew that it was useless. But when she stopped to take breath, he profited by this brief halt to return to his fixed idea.
“What was my father’s name?” he repeated.
How astonished those clear eyes looked! She had totally forgotten of whom they had been speaking. She answered quickly,—“He was called the Marquis de l’Epau.” Jack certainly had but little of his mother’s respect for high birth, its rights and its prerogatives, for he received with the greatest tranquillity the intelligence of his illustrious descent. What mattered it to him that his father was a marquis, and bore a distinguished name? This did not prevent his son from earning his bread as a stoker on the Cydnus.
“Look here, Charlotte,” said D’Argenton impatiently, one day, “something must be done! A decided step must be taken with this boy. He cannot remain here forever without doing anything. He is quite well again; he eats like an ox. He coughs a little still, to be sure, but Dr. Hirsch says that is nothing,—that he will always cough. He must decide on something. If the life in the engine-room of a steamer is too severe for him, let him try a railroad.”
Charlotte ventured to say, timidly, “If you could see how he loses his breath when he climbs the stairs, and how thin he is, you would still feel that he is far from well. Can you not employ him on some of the office work?”