At length the carriage stopped before his house. The door opened instantly, and the marchioness found herself in Dionysia’s arms, and soon after comfortably seated in an easy-chair. The others had followed her. It was past two o’clock; but every minute now was valuable. Arranging his spectacles, Dr. Seignebos said,—
“I propose that we exchange our information. I, for my part, I am still at the same point. But you know my views. I do not give them up. Cocoleu is an impostor, and it shall be proved. I appear to notice him no longer; but, in reality, I watch him more closely than ever.”
Dionysia interrupted him, saying,—
“Before any thing is decided, there is one fact which you all ought to know. Listen.”
Pale like death, for it cost her a great struggle to reveal thus the secret of her heart, but with a voice full of energy, and an eye full of fire, she told them what she had already confessed to her grandfather; viz., the propositions she had made to Jacques, and his obstinate refusal to accede to them.
“Well done, madame!” said Dr. Seignebos, full of enthusiasm. “Well done! Jacques is very unfortunate, and still he is to be envied.”
Dionysia finished her recital. Then, turning with a triumphant air to M. Magloire, she added,—
“After that, is there any one yet who could believe that Jacques is a vile assassin?”
The eminent advocate of Sauveterre was not one of those men who prize their opinions more highly than truth itself.
“I confess,” he said, “that, if I were to go and see Jacques to-morrow for the first time, I should not speak to him as I did before.”