Elias sat up with renewed interest.
“What! What makes you think—”
“Ah, ah! Cannibal, you have just smelt human flesh, and have become quite young again in consequence.”
“Baroness, you will kill me with anguish.”
“Ah! Yes, you look as though you would die, indeed! Hate, Lichtenbach, hate is a far stronger sentiment than love, is it not?”
He made no reply. The only thing that was now of importance to him was the supposition Sophia had just given utterance to. He saw nothing, except that the son of his deadly enemy might possibly be in possession of this secret they were so anxious to fathom. If only it were possible! Suppose chance were to give him the opportunity of crushing the very people he hated with all his soul, and, at the same time, depriving them of a fortune. He asked the Baroness in eager tones—
“What makes you think the General took Marcel Baradier into his confidence?”
“In the first place, they saw one another constantly; the young man was admitted into his laboratory, a most exceptional favour. I know well he worked there with Trémont, who had entire confidence in him. However mysterious a man may be, however close and sullen, a fatal hour is sure to come, when he is forced to unburden himself. The General would never have imparted his plans to a man, even to his best friend, for he was as cunning as a fox. But, after dinner, with a good cigar between his lips, he felt strongly impelled to dazzle me, and as he could not do this either by his youth or his beauty, he attempted to win me over by his genius. In this way, on different occasions, he let slip several small incidents, which, collected and coordinated by a good memory, form a certainty.”
“Then all is not lost?”
“Nothing is ever lost.”