Rather disappointed in the degree of emotion betrayed by Mabel’s mother, Bertram Gramont resolved to inflict a further blow on his intended victim.
“Besides this charge against you, Madame Coulancourt, which seems greatly increased by the events of last night, which will exasperate the Government beyond measure, I find that a young man calling himself Louis Lebeau has been secreted in this château for several days—is not this the case, madame?”
“I deny nothing, monsieur,” said Madame Coulancourt, calmly and coldly. “Pray let me know the extent of the accusations against me, and what it is your pleasure to do.”
“Madame, you mistake my motives altogether,” returned the gentleman, with a flushed cheek, for he was getting heated, seeing the coolness of Madame Coulancourt. “It is not my pleasure to injure or disturb you or your family—if possible, to avoid it. I wish to show you your situation, and then propose a remedy. Therefore, with respect to the pretended Louis Lebeau, I am aware that he is your son, Julian Arden.”
Madame Coulancourt, at these words, felt a pang shoot through her heart. She had no idea that any one could have betrayed that secret.
Monsieur Gramont exulted; he plainly perceived he had now laid his hand on a chord that vibrated to the touch. He perceived she felt no fear for herself and Mabel, but she dreaded, and with reason, her son’s falling into the power of Fouché.
“Your son, madame, left the château yesterday evening with a boy named Joseph. Before this time he is safely arrested, and it remains with me to consign him to a prison, perhaps for years. He, you know, is an Englishman by birth, and I am aware and have proof of his interviews with Lieutenant Thornton, who is one of the most determined officers in the navy of England, and the same who, with Sir Sidney Smith, attempted to cut out the famous privateer, Vengeance, and again last night did actually carry her and an armed brig off, in which act your son was to have been an accomplice.”
This was in truth a severe trial for Madame Coulancourt: of all things she had dreaded her son’s recognition, and his falling into the hands of her enemies. From his having served, though against his will, in the French naval service, and his desertion from it, which was quite natural, his sentence, if it depended on the Government, might be death.
Madame Coulancourt very plainly perceived that all the movements in the château were betrayed; that there was a concealed enemy amongst them, or a bribed spy.
Seeing, by madame’s pale, expressive features, that his last untrue assertion had greatly alarmed her, inwardly exulting, Gramont observed, with apparent calmness and kindness of tone—