Fortunately the hunchback now came to the rescue of the unfortunate baron, who really felt as if his poor brain was about to burst.
"I promised you the answer to the enigma, you remember, my dear baron," said M. de Maillefort.
"I think it is time, quite time for you to give it, then, marquis. If you do not, I believe I shall go mad. There is a strange buzzing in my ears, my head feels as if it would split, there are specks floating before my eyes—and—"
"Well, then, listen to me. This morning your ward declared that she would not marry anybody but M. Olivier Raymond, and that the happiness of her life depended upon it, did she not?"
"You certainly are not going to begin that all over again?" exclaimed M. de la Rochaiguë, stamping his foot angrily.
"Have a little patience, baron. I told you afterwards that all the good you had heard in relation to M. Olivier Raymond was nothing in comparison with what you would soon discover for yourself."
"Well, what have I discovered?"
"Is the disinterestedness which you yourself were obliged to admire nothing? To refuse the richest heiress in France to fulfil a promise of marriage previously made to a penniless young girl—is not such conduct as that—?"
"Admirable, commendable, worthy of all praise," exclaimed the baron. "I know all that! But I repeat that I shall go stark staring mad if you don't explain why this refusal, which should fill you and my ward with dismay and consternation, seems to delight you beyond measure,—that is, if you are still anxious for Ernestine to marry Olivier."
"I certainly am."