And he was in the right, for, after a week spent in indecision, Norbert knocked at the door of his father’s bitterest enemy. Daumon, concealed behind the window curtain, had watched his approach, and it was with the same air of deference that he had welcomed the Marquis, as he took care to call him; but he affected to be so overcome by the honor of this visit that he could only falter out,—
“Marquis, I am your most humble servant.”
And Norbert, who had expected a very warm greeting, was much disconcerted. For a moment he thought of going away again, but his pride would not permit him to do so, for he had said to himself that it would be an act of a fool to go away this time without having accomplished anything.
“I want to have a bit of advice from you, Counsellor,” said he; “for as I have but little experience in a certain matter, I should like to avail myself of your knowledge.”
“You do me too much honor, Marquis,” murmured the Counsellor with a low bow.
“But surely,” said the young man, “you must feel that you are bound to assist me after all you told me a day or two back. You mentioned two means by which I could regain my freedom, and hinted that there was a third one. I have come to you to-day to ask you what it was.”
Never did any man more successfully assume an air of astonishment than did Daumon at this moment.
“What,” said he, “do you absolutely remember those idle words I made use of then?”
“I do most decidedly.”
The villain’s heart of Daumon was filled with delight, but he replied,—