Diana and Norbert exchanged glances of annoyance at finding their secret at the mercy of such a man. This evident distrust appeared to wound Daumon deeply.
“You have a perfect right,” remarked he dejectedly, “to say, ‘Mind your own business;’ but the fact is, that I hate all kinds of injustice so much that I always take the side of the weakest, and so, when I come in and find you deploring your troubles, I say to myself, ‘Doubtless here are two young people made for each other.’”
“You forget yourself,” broke in Diana haughtily.
“I beg your pardon,” stammered Daumon. “I am but a poor peasant, and sometimes I speak out too plainly. I meant no harm, and I only hope that you will forgive me.”
Daumon looked at Diana; and as she made no reply, he went on: “‘Well,’ says I to myself, ‘here are two young folks that have fallen in love, and have every right to do so, and yet they are kept apart by unreasonable and cruel-minded parents. They are young and know nothing of the law, and without help they would most certainly get into a muddle. Now, suppose I take their matter in hand, knowing the law thoroughly as I do, and being up to its weak as well as its strong points.’”
He spoke on in this strain for some minutes, and did not notice that they had withdrawn a little apart, and were whispering to each other.
“Why should we not trust him?” asked Norbert. “He has plenty of experience.”
“He would betray us; he would do anything for money.”
“That is all the better for us then; for if we promise him a handsome sum, he will not say a word of what has passed to-day.”
“Do as you think best, Norbert.”