The servant went off, and Madame d’Argeles then turned to her visitor again. But she seemed literally transfigured by the storm of passion which was raging in her heart and mind; her cheeks were crimson, and an unwonted energy sparkled in her eyes. “Let us finish this business,” she said, curtly; “I am expecting some one.”
M. Fortunat bowed with a rather pompous, but at the same time obsequious air. “I have only a few more words to say,” he declared. “M. de Chalusse having no other heir, I have come to acquaint you with your rights.”
“Very good; continue, if you please.”
“You have only to present yourself, and establish your identity, to be put in possession of your brother’s property.”
Madame d’Argeles gave the agent a look of mingled irony and distrust; and after a moment’s reflection, she replied: “I am very grateful for your interest, monsieur; but if I have any rights, it is not my intention to urge them.”
It seemed to M. Fortunat as if he were suddenly falling from some immense height. “You are not in earnest,” he exclaimed, “or you are ignorant of the fact that M. de Chalusse leaves perhaps twenty millions behind him.”
“My course is decided on, monsieur; irrevocably decided on.”
“Very well, madame; but it often happens that the court institutes inquiries for the heirs of large fortunes, and this may happen in your case.”
“I should reply that I was not a member of the Chalusse family, and that would end it. Startled by the news of my brother’s death, I allowed my secret to escape me. I shall know how to keep it in future.”
Anger succeeded astonishment in M. Fortunat’s mind. “Madame, madame, what can you be thinking of?” he cried, impetuously. “Accept—in Heaven’s name—accept this inheritance; if not for yourself, for the sake of——”