Cold drops of perspiration stood on the nobleman's forehead. No, there was no longer any doubt: Fanfaro was his brother's son!
"Have you never been able to find out his family name?" he asked, after a pause.
"No; the Cossacks set fire to the City Hall at Weissenbach and all the records there were destroyed. An old shepherd said he had once been told that Jules was the scion of an old noble family. Anything positive on this point, I could not find out—I—"
At this point the door was hastily opened and Fanfaro entered. He rushed upon Girdel and enthusiastically cried:
"Thank God, Papa Girdel, that you are well again."
"You rascal, you," laughed Girdel, looking proudly at the young man. "You have found time again to rescue some one."
"Monsieur Fanfaro," said the marquis now, "permit me once more to thank you for what you have done for me. I can never repay you."
"Don't mention it, sir," replied Fanfaro, modestly, "I have only done my duty."
"Well I hope if you should ever need me you will let me know. The Marquis of Fougereuse is grateful."
When the marquis went downstairs shortly afterward, he found Simon awaiting him.