The young lawyer did not find himself in an agreeable position. In the secret depths of his heart he would have infinitely preferred that Paul Desfrayne should remain bound. So long as his marriage was an unalterable fact, there was no fear of his carrying off Lois. There was scant hope for Frank himself, poor fellow; but he was asked to give his best aid toward demolishing the great bar to her union with this powerful rival. If she did not care for any one else—and he reflected with a sigh that she cared little for himself—the probability was that she would not raise any urgent objections toward fulfilling her dead benefactor’s wishes.
But he was generous, and scorned to act a mean and dishonorable part. The cloud was dissipated from his grave, kind face by a sad smile, and he said:
“You wish to ask my advice and assistance how to proceed?”
“I shall be most thankful if you will give me your opinion as to how I ought to act,” answered his visitor.
“Is there any chance of your being able to compel this—your—Madam Guiscardini to confess whether she has or has not destroyed the stolen register?”
“None that I can see. She is of a most stubborn nature. Even if there were no particular object to be gained, I believe she would obstinately refuse to do or say anything that did not suit or please her.”
“I am sincerely sorry for your cruel situation,” said Frank Amberley, in a tone of profound feeling.
“Of that I am assured,” replied Paul Desfrayne; “and I come to you in the full confidence that you will help me to the utmost of your power.”
“The register being, we will say, destroyed, there is no resource but to trace out the priest who married Lucia to her peasant lover?”
“None.”