There was such implicit trust, such complete faith expressed in those few simple words, that instinctively M. le Duc d'Aumont felt ashamed that he could ever have misunderstood his daughter. He was silent for a moment or two, then he said more lightly:
"His Majesty is much angered of course."
"Against me, I hope," rejoined Eglinton.
"Aye!" sighed the Duke. "King Louis is poorer by fifteen million livres by your act, milor."
"And richer by the kingdom of honour. As for the millions, M. le Duc, I'll place them myself at His Majesty's service. My château and dependencies of Choisy are worth that," added milor lightly. "As soon as this feeble hand can hold a pen, I'll hand them over to the crown of France as a free gift."
"You will do that, milor?" gasped the Duke, who could scarce believe his ears.
"'Tis my firm intention," rejoined the sick man with a smile.
A great weight had been lifted from M. le Duc's mind. Royal displeasure would indeed have descended impartially on all the friends of "le petit Anglais" and above all on milor's father-in-law, whose very presence at Court would of a surety have become distasteful to the disappointed monarch. Now this unparalleled generosity would more than restore Louis' confidence in a Prime Minister whose chief virtue consisted in possessing so wealthy and magnanimous a son-in-law.
Indeed we know that M. le Duc d'Aumont continued for some time after these memorable days to enjoy the confidence and gratitude of Louis the Well-beloved and to bask in the sunshine of Madame de Pompadour's smiles, whilst the gift of the château and dependencies of Choisy by Milor the Marquis of Eglinton to the crown of France was made the subject of a public fête at Versailles and of an ode by M. Jolyot Crébillon of the Institut de France, writ especially for the occasion.
But after the visit of M. le Duc d'Aumont at his bedside in the "auberge des Trois Matelots" the munificent donor of fifteen millions livres felt over-wearied of life.