“Well, mademoiselle, I can no longer remain here. I am far too nervous, and I wish to go to some foreign country.”
“Come, let me hear the real meaning of this long preface.”
Thus adjured, Daumon spoke. He only wished for some little memento to cheer his days and nights of exile, some little recognition of his services; in fact, such a sum as would bring him in an income of three thousand francs.
“I understand you,” replied Diana. “You wish to be paid for what you call your kindness.”
“Ah, mademoiselle!”
“And you put a value of sixty thousand francs upon it; that is rather a high price, is it not?”
“Alas! it is not half what this unhappy business has cost me.”
“Nonsense; your demand is preposterous.”
“Demand!” returned he; “I make no demand. I come to you respectfully and with a little charity. If I were to demand, I should come to you in quite a different manner. I should say, ‘Pay me such and such a sum, or I tell everything.’ What have I to lose if the whole story comes to light? A mere nothing. I am a poor man, and am growing old. You and M. Norbert are the ones that have something to fear. You are noble, rich, and young, and a happy future lies before you.”
Diana paused and thought for an instant.