They understood, now, his efforts to compel Mlle. Gilberte to marry M. Costeclar.
“He thought that Costeclar would help him out of the scrape,” suggested Maxence to his sister.
The poor girl shuddered at the thought, and she could not help feeling thankful to her father for not having told her his situation; for would she have had the sublime courage to refuse the sacrifice, if her father had told her?
“I have stolen! I am lost! Costeclar alone can save me; and he will save me if you become his wife.”
M. Favoral’s pleasant behavior during the siege was quite natural. Then he had no fears; and one could understand how in the most critical hours of the Commune, when Paris was in flames, he could have exclaimed almost cheerfully,
“Ah! this time it is indeed the final liquidation.”
Doubtless, in the bottom of his heart, he wished that Paris might be destroyed, and, with it, the evidences of his crime. And perhaps he was not the only one to form that impious wish.
“That’s why, then,” exclaimed Maxence,—“that’s why my father treated me so rudely: that’s why he so obstinately persisted in closing the offices of the Mutual Credit against me.”
He was interrupted by a violent ringing of the door-bell. He looked at the clock: ten o’clock was about to strike.
“Who can call so late?” said Mme. Favoral.