“You have lost nothing through me,” was Fraisier’s comment. “The gentlemen had their doubts, or they would not have set this trap for you. They were lying in wait and spying upon you.... You have not told me everything,” he added, with a tiger’s glance at the woman before him.
“I hide anything from you!” cried she—“after all that we have done together!” she added with a shudder.
“My dear madame, I have done nothing blameworthy,” returned Fraisier. Evidently he meant to deny his nocturnal visit to Pons’ rooms.
Every hair on La Cibot’s head seemed to scorch her, while a sense of icy cold swept over her from head to foot.
“What?”... she faltered in bewilderment.
“Here is a criminal charge on the face of it.... You may be accused of suppressing the will,” Fraisier made answer drily.
La Cibot started.
“Don’t be alarmed; I am your legal adviser. I only wished to show you how easy it is, in one way or another, to do as I once explained to you. Let us see, now; what have you done that this simple German should be hiding in the room?”
“Nothing at all, unless it was that scene the other day when I stood M. Pons out that his eyes dazzled. And ever since, the two gentlemen have been as different as can be. So you have brought all my troubles upon me; I might have lost my influence with M. Pons, but I was sure of the German; just now he was talking of marrying me or of taking me with him—it is all one.”
The excuse was so plausible that Fraisier was fain to be satisfied with it. “You need fear nothing,” he resumed. “I gave you my word that you shall have your money, and I shall keep my word. The whole matter, so far, was up in the air, but now it is as good as bank-notes.... You shall have at least twelve hundred francs per annum.... But, my good lady, you must act intelligently under my orders.”