"Fanfaro!" cried Montferrand in amazement.
Fanfaro, for it was really he, laid the young girl's body tenderly upon the ground, and, turning to the assembled guests, cried with threatening voice:
"Ladies and gentlemen, here is the corpse of a young girl whom the Vicomte de Talizac murdered."
The women uttered cries of terror and the men looked threateningly at Talizac, who was trembling and trying hard to appear indifferent.
The Marquis of Fougereuse was as white as a spectre. Was this Fanfaro going to pursue him forever?
"Who is the bold fellow?" he audaciously said. "Throw him out."
"Don't be so quick, marquis," said Fanfaro earnestly; "it is a question of a terrible crime, and your son the Vicomte de Talizac is the criminal! Oh, the shame of it! Does he think that because he is a nobleman he can do what he pleases? This young girl lived modestly and plainly; she was pure and innocent. The Vicomte de Talizac regarded her as his prey. He bribed a couple of scoundrels and had the poor child abducted.
"Half crazed with horror and despairing of humanity, the victim sought peace and forgetfulness in suicide. Marquis, do you know of any infamy equal to this?"
Proud, with head erect like an avenger of innocence, Fanfaro stood in the centre of the room and his eyes shot forth rays of contempt.