What then, is my father——?—Your father! interrupted Peter; Lord bless you, that is all fudge, to frighten you: your father, nor nobody else has ever sent after you; I dare say he knows no more of you than the Pope does—not he. Adeline looked displeased. You trifle, said she; if you have any thing to tell, say it quickly; I am in haste.
Bless you, young lady, I meant no harm, I hope you're not angry; but I'm sure you can't deny that your father is cruel. But as I was saying, the Marquis de Montalt likes you; and he and my master (Peter looked round) have been laying their heads together about you. Adeline turned pale; she comprehended a part of the truth, and eagerly entreated him to proceed.
They have been laying their heads together about you. This is what Jaques the Marquis's man tells me: Says he, Peter, you little know what is going on: I could tell all if I chose it; but it is not for those who are trusted to tell again. I warrant now your master is close enough with you. Upon which I was piqued, and resolved to make him believe I could be trusted as well as he. Perhaps not says I; perhaps I know as much as you, though I do not choose to brag on't; and I winked.—Do you so? says he, then you are closer than I thought for. She is a fine girl, says he,—meaning you Ma'mselle; but she is nothing but a poor foundling after all, so it does not much signify. I had a mind to know further what he meant—so I did not knock him down. By seeming to know as much as he, I at last made him discover all; and he told me—but you look pale, Ma'mselle, are you ill?
No, said Adeline in a tremulous accent, and scarcely able to support herself; pray proceed.
And he told me that the Marquis had been courting you a good while, but you would not listen to him, and had even pretended he would marry you, and all would not do. As for marriage, says I, I suppose she knows the Marchioness is alive; and I'm sure she is not one for his turn upon other terms.
The Marchioness is really living then! said Adeline.
O yes, Ma'mselle! we all know that, and I thought you had known it too.—We shall see that, replies Jaques; at least, I believe that our master will outwit her.—I stared; I could not help it.—Aye, says he, you know your master has agreed to give her up to my Lord.
Good God! what will become of me? exclaimed Adeline.
Aye, Ma'mselle, I am sorry for you; but hear me out. When Jaques said this, I quite forgot myself: I'll never believe it, said I, I'll never believe my master would be guilty of such a base action; he'll not give her up, or I'm no Christian.—Oh! said, Jaques, for that matter, I thought you'd known all, else I should not have said a word about it. However, you may soon satisfy yourself by going to the parlour door, as I have done; they're in consultation about it now, I dare say.
You need not repeat any more of this conversation, said Adeline; but tell me the result of what you heard from the parlour.