George listened to all this with great uneasiness. Madame de Lescombat had just revealed the fact that she was aware of Puymirol's arrest, and that she was inclined to cast upon him the suspicion which she feared might fall upon herself. He was grateful to Blanche for defending Adhémar, and felt a strong desire to interfere, and frighten the countess into strict neutrality. He had the means of doing so in his pocket, as he was the custodian of the letters about which the two rivals were taunting each other. Still he had a lingering fear, that, if he made use of these weapons, they might somehow be turned against Puymirol.
"And now that I see your game," resumed Blanche to the countess, "I shall just prevent it. As soon as you leave the house you mean to go straight to the investigating magistrate and fill his ears with the vilest slander against Puymirol and against me. You shall do nothing of the kind. Before you leave this room you shall write the confession I mean to dictate to you."
"You must be mad!" cried Madame de Lescombat.
"I am nothing of the kind. I am in my own house, and if you refuse to obey me, I shall send word to the commissary of police, and inform him that two old friends of Dargental's have some important revelations to make to him about the murder on the Boulevard Haussmann. He will come and find you here. You may rest assured of that."
"You wretch! do you mean to ruin me?" cried Madame de Lescombat, in consternation.
"Oh! you are not quite so arrogant now. You are afraid of being sent to prison. Ah, well, just state in writing that you came here to entreat me to return you a letter which was written by you to Dargental, and which deeply compromised you."
"No," said the countess, regaining courage. "I will not write a single line. Send for all the commissaries in Paris, and tell them whatever you please. No one will believe you."
"You are very much mistaken. My assertions may not have much weight, but I will produce a witness to support them."
"A witness! what do you mean?" exclaimed Madame de Lescombat, turning perceptibly paler.
Blanche, instead of replying, hastened to the silken curtain, dashed it aside, caught hold of George by the arm, and dragged him into the presence of the now terrified visitor. George was greatly disturbed, for he had not expected this, and did not know what he should say to the countess. He must be careful, at any rate, for an imprudent word might ruin Puymirol. "Who are you, sir?" asked Madame de Lescombat, when she had partially recovered from her alarm.