"In the first place, you will lose Annette. In the second place, something worse than that will happen to you."
"Through you?"
"Through me. I have a touch of the bloodhound in me. Take heed. Only in alliance with me are you safe."
It was a bold hazard, but it succeeded. Without another word, Chaytor signed the paper.
"Basil Whittingham," said Gilbert Bidaud, examining the signature, and uttering the name with significant emphasis. "Good."
That evening the engagement between Annette and Chaytor was ratified in the presence of Gilbert Bidaud and his sister. The old man had a long conversation with his niece before Chaytor made his appearance. He told her that Basil had formally proposed for her hand, and that knowing her heart was already given to the young man, he had accorded his consent to their union. He spoke in great praise of Basil's character, and skilfully alluded to certain matters which he knew Annette was grieving over.
"You have observed a change in Basil," he said, "so have I; but you, my dear niece, are partly responsible for it. The truth is, Basil was fearful of the manner in which you would receive his declaration. He loves you with so deep and profound a love, and he sets so high a value upon you, that he hardly dared to hope. The uncertainty of his position has made him forget himself; he has committed excesses; he has behaved as if he were not Basil, but another man. You, my dear child, with your simple heart, are ignorant of the vagaries which love's fever, and the fear of disappointment, play in a man's nature. They transform him, and only when his heart is at ease, and he is satisfied that his love is returned, does his better, his higher self return. But for this fear Basil would perhaps have unfolded his heart to you without any intervention, though he has behaved like an honourable man in speaking first to me. You will be very, very happy, my child. I bless you."
Only too ready was Annette to accept this explanation. Implicitly believing in it, and not for one moment suspecting guile or duplicity, she felt her faith and her best hopes restored. When Chaytor came to her, he was for awhile humbled by her sweetness and modesty, and what deficiencies there were in him Annette supplied them out of her faith and trust.
"There is a little formality," said Gilbert Bidaud, intruding upon the lovers. "It is a custom in our family to sign a preliminary marriage contract. Affix your signatures here--you, Basil Whittingham, you, Annette Bidaud. It is well. Before the year is out, we will have a wedding."
Within a week they were in Switzerland, settled in the Villa Bidaud.