“Enough, monsieur!” he cried. “You have a right to refuse assistance, but none to insult me. If you have employed spies to search into my private affairs, you have taken an unwarrantable liberty, upon which you would not have ventured had you been of an age for me to retaliate. Much of what you say is incomprehensible to me; a little more might cause me to forget the respect due to your years.”
“Spare me theatrical language, monsieur; and, as you have forced yourself upon me, be good enough to listen to what I have to tell you. This letter contains an order for two hundred thousand francs.”
Against his will, the young man’s eyes turned greedily towards it.
“Are you not inclined to add to your accomplishments by robbery and murder?” sneered M. de Cadanet.
“If I had the chance, I should be glad to get hold of the money,” said the young man, lightly. His anger burned out as quickly as dry straw, and the other, who had not expected this frank answer, stared and went on:
“When I gave myself the annoyance of looking into your affairs, I resolved that, if you came out of the ordeal acquitted, I would apply the earn to their settlement; if you failed, it should go to—another person.”
Léon laughed. The count, who had not the young man’s command of temper, became furious.
“You laugh, monsieur! Let those laugh who win.”
“Exactly,” said M. de Beaudrillart, coolly. “And who wins? The admirable Charles?”
“Yes, monsieur!” thundered the count. “He whom you are pleased to sneer at as the admirable Charles, and who, if not a Beaudrillart, has shown himself to be what is better—an honourable man. You follow me?”