When the count had ceased speaking, M. Daburon said: “I thank you, sir. I can say nothing positive; but justice has weighty reasons to believe that, in the scene which you have just related to me, Viscount Albert played a part previously arranged.”
“And well arranged,” murmured the count; “for he deceived me!”
He was interrupted by the entrance of Noel, who carried under his arm a black shagreen portfolio, ornamented with his monogram.
The advocate bowed to the old gentleman, who in his turn rose and retired politely to the end of the room.
“Sir,” said Noel, in an undertone to the magistrate, “you will find all the letters in this portfolio. I must ask permission to leave you at once, as Madame Gerdy’s condition grows hourly more alarming.”
Noel had raised his voice a little, in pronouncing these last words; and the count heard them. He started, and made a great effort to restrain the question which leaped from his heart to his lips.
“You must however give me a moment, my dear sir,” replied the magistrate.
M. Daburon then quitted his chair, and, taking the advocate by the hand, led him to the count.
“M. de Commarin,” said he, “I have the honour of presenting to you M. Noel Gerdy.”
M. de Commarin was probably expecting some scene of this kind: for not a muscle of his face moved: he remained perfectly calm. Noel, on his side, was like a man who had received a blow on the head; he staggered, and was obliged to seek support from the back of a chair.