But he interrupted her with a wild burst of laughter. “True,” he answered; “and, by virtue of the law which is written in the code, we owe him affection and respect.”
“Maxence!” murmured the girl in a beseeching tone. But he went on, nevertheless,
“Yes, he is our father, unfortunately. But I should like to know his titles to our respect and our affection. After making our mother the most miserable of creatures, he has embittered our existence, withered our youth, ruined my future, and done his best to spoil yours by compelling you to marry Costeclar. And, to crown all these deeds of kindness, he runs away now, after stealing twelve millions, leaving us nothing but misery and a disgraced name.
“And yet,” he added, “is it possible that a cashier should take twelve millions, and his employer know nothing of it? And is our father really the only man who benefitted by these millions?”
Then came back to the mind of Maxence and Mlle. Gilberte the last words of their father at the moment of his flight,
“I have been betrayed; and I must suffer for all!”
And his sincerity could hardly be called in question; for he was then in one of those moments of decisive crisis in which the truth forces itself out in spite of all calculation.
“He must have accomplices then,” murmured Maxence.
Although he had spoken very low, Mme. Favoral overheard him. To defend her husband, she found a remnant of energy, and, straightening herself on her seat,
“Ah! do not doubt it,” she stammered out. “Of his own inspiration, Vincent could never have committed an evil act. He has been circumvented, led away, duped!”