She almost decided to reply that she was not at home, or that she was extremely ill; but reason told her that she was alarming herself needlessly, perhaps, and that, in any case, the worst was preferable to suspense.
“Tell the marquis that I will be there in a moment,” she replied.
She desired a few minutes of solitude to compose her features, to regain her self-possession, if possible, and to conquer the nervous trembling that made her shake like a leaf.
But just as she was most disquieted by the thought of her peril, a sudden inspiration brought a malicious smile to her lip.
“Ah!” she thought, “my agitation will seem perfectly natural. It may even be made of service.”
As she descended the grand staircase, she could not help saying to herself:
“Martial’s presence here is incomprehensible.”
It was certainly very extraordinary; and it had not been without much hesitation that he resolved upon this painful step.
But it was the only means of procuring several important documents which were indispensable in the revision of M. d’Escorval’s case.
These documents, after the baron’s condemnation, had been left in the hands of the Marquis de Courtornieu. Now that he had lost his reason, it was impossible to ask him for them; and Martial was obliged to apply to the daughter for permission to search for them among her father’s papers.