The words of this stranger, showing his intimate knowledge of the private affairs of all present, seemed to confound and frighten Raoul more than M. Fauvel’s threats had done. Yet he had sufficient presence of mind to say:
“It is the truth!”
The banker looked wildly from Raoul to M. Verduret; then, fastening his haggard eyes on his wife, exclaimed:
“It is false! you are all conspiring to deceive me! Proofs!”
“You shall have proofs,” replied M. Verduret, “but first listen.”
And rapidly, with his wonderful talent for exposition, he related the principal points of the plot he had discovered.
The true state of the case was terribly distressing to M. Fauvel, but nothing compared with what he had suspected.
His throbbing, yearning heart told him that he still loved his wife. Why should he punish a fault committed so many years ago, and atoned for by twenty years of devotion and suffering?
For some moments after M. Verduret had finished his explanation, M. Fauvel remained silent.
So many strange events had happened, rapidly following each other in succession, and culminating in the shocking scene which had just taken place, that M. Fauvel seemed to be too bewildered to think clearly.