He heard the faint sigh, of which Maurice was himself unconscious, and drew a correct inference.
From the hour that the viscount had been made aware of the true state of Count Tristan's finances, he had reduced all his own expenses, allowed himself no luxuries, no indulgencies, nothing but the barest necessities, that his father's narrow resources might not be drained through a son's lavishness. The young nobleman had not at that moment a hundred francs at his own command. He had no alternative but to apply to Count Tristan for the sum required by the Jew.
"My means are very limited," returned Maurice, with a great waste of candor. "I must beg you to deal with me as liberally as possible. The amount you demand I hope to obtain and bring you in a few days. In the meantime you will commence your inquiries."
"Assuredly,—just so; commence putting matters in train at once; possibly may have some clew between thumb and finger when monsieur returns with the money; nothing to be done without golden keys: unlock all doors; carry one into hidden depths of the earth. Shall be obliged to advance funds to pay parties employed. Have the goodness to write your name in this book."
Maurice wrote down his name and address, and took his leave, once more elated by the belief that he was on the eve of discovering Madeleine's retreat.
The letter to his father written and dispatched, he sought Bertha, and gave her full particulars of his interview with the Jew, delicately forbearing to mention the compensation he expected.
Bertha, as sanguine of success as her cousin, was gayly discussing probabilities, when the Marquis de Merrivale entered.
"Young heads laid together to plot mischief, I wager!" remarked the nobleman, jocosely; for he was in a capital humor, having just partaken of an epicurean dejeuner à la fourchette at the celebrated "Madrid's."
"We are talking about our Cousin Madeleine. Maurice has a new plan for prosecuting his search," said Bertha. "Ah, dear Madeleine! Why did she forsake us so strangely? How could she have had the heart to cause us so much sorrow?"
"My dear child, it was probably her liver not her heart that was in fault. Her heart, I dare say, performed its grave duties properly, and should not be aspersed; some bilious derangement was no doubt at the bottom of her singular conduct. The greatest eccentricities may all be traced back to bile as their origin. Regulate the bile and you regulate the brain from which mental vagaries proceed. If some judicious friend had administered to your cousin Madeleine a little salutary medicine, and forced her to diet for a few days, she would have acted more reasonably. Talking of diet, that was a princely dinner the Marquis de Fleury set before us. He is really a very able and estimable member of society,—understands good living to perfection. I cordially reciprocate his wish that a lasting bond of union should exist between us. His brother-in-law, the young Duke de Montauban, is enchanted with my little niece. I say nothing: arrange between yourselves; but, by all means, marry into a family which knows how to value a good cook; take a young man who has had his taste sufficiently cultivated to distinguish of what ingredients a sauce is composed. Don't despise a blessing that may be enjoyed three hundred and sixty-five times every year,—that's my advice."