“You see, I have not told you all yet. But you are my friend; and I know I can open my heart to you. I did not have the—the—cleverness to overcome all the restrictions which hamper this kind of business. I was imprudent, in spite of all Sir Thorn’s warnings. To-morrow there will be a meeting of the stockholders; and, if they do not grant me what I shall have to ask of them, I may be in trouble. And, when a man calls himself Count Ville-Handry, rather than appear in a police-court—you know what I mean!”
He was interrupted by one of the clerks, who brought him a letter. He read it, and said,—
“Tell them I am coming.”
Then, turning again to Daniel, he added,—
“I must leave you; but the countess is at home, and she would never forgive me if I did not take you in to present your respects to her. Come! But be careful and don’t say a word of my troubles. It would kill her.”
And, before Daniel could recover from his bewilderment, the count had opened a door, and pushed him into the room, saying,—
“Sarah, M. Champcey.”
Sarah started up as if she had received an electric shock. Her husband had left them; but, even if he had been still in the room, she would probably not have been any more able to control herself.
“You!” she cried, “Daniel, my Daniel!”
And turning to Mrs. Brian, who was sitting by the window, she said,—