De Brévannes retreated a step or two, still holding his gun in his hand, his hair bristling on his head with affright. He then rushed towards the female whose body had slid upon the ground, but whose head still reclined on the sofa. He recognised Paula.
When he saw his fatal mistake, which rendered him guilty of an assassination which nothing could justify,—when he found De Morville with the woman by whom he believed himself passionately beloved, a furious vertigo seized upon De Brévannes, who burst into a fit of savage laughter, and disappeared. The prince and De Morville, overwhelmed by this horrid scene, did not attempt to oppose his departure. A few seconds afterwards they heard a report of fire-arms. De Brévannes had shot himself.
CHAPTER XLIX
[EXPLANATIONS]
It remains for us to explain the arrival of De Morville at the Château de Brévannes, and his presence, as well as that of Paula, in the châlet in which Bertha and Arnold had been a quarter of an hour before.
De Morville had learned from Madame de Lormoy, his aunt, that Paula had suddenly set out for Lorraine, in the depth of winter, to pass some time at the house of M. de Brévannes.
De Morville was completely ignorant that Paula was acquainted with De Brévannes, and this departure, so sudden and so extraordinary at this season, bespoke extreme intimacy; besides, he recalled some words, some allusions of Paula, during his last interview with her at the masked ball. He believed himself sacrificed, betrayed, or, rather, he could not find any plausible excuse for Paula's departure, and, in fact, was lost in conjecture. At the risk of compromising Paula by the improbability of the excuse for his journey, he set off for Lorraine, resolved on speaking to Madame de Hansfeld at all risks, so that he could clear up this mystery.
He reached De Brévannes about four o'clock in the afternoon, stopped in his carriage at the park gate, which, as we know, was close to the chalet, and sent his servant to Madame de Hansfeld with a note thus worded:—
"MADAME,—In consequence of a wager with my aunt, Madame de Lormoy, who, surprised at your departure and uneasy as to your health, was exceedingly anxious to know how you were, I have betted that I would go and inquire of you in person, and return instantly to Paris to satisfy Madame de Lormoy. If you should be so kind as to take any interest in my wager, I beg of you to oblige me with the desired information. Not having the honour of any acquaintance with M. de Brévannes, and having promised not even to leave my carriage, I await your reply at the park gate."
Paula received this note at the moment when she was returning from a walk. It was raining fast, and her first impulse was to take up a cloak that was at hand (it was that of Bertha, which she had left in the vestibule), and hasten to De Morville. In the midst of her extreme anguish she was desirous at all risks of sending De Morville away from a place in which so tragic an event was about to occur.