"Wait!" said the old gentleman. "Hear my tale. Talizac paid scoundrels to abduct a girl, a street singer. My son became disgusted with the adventure, and it was then that the Vicomte attacked him. To-morrow the journals will all have this tale. I shall lay the facts before Monsieur de Salves, as it was I who acted as intermediary in the proposed marriage."
Fongereues became livid. He staggered, and caught at a table for support.
At this moment a portière was lifted, and Magdalena, Talizac's mother, appeared. Fongereues exclaimed:
"Madame! your son is a scoundrel. He is ruined, as are we all! This is the result of the education you have given him!"
Magdalena looked perfectly unmoved.
"Monsieur de Montferrand," she said, "I am aware that my son has been unfortunate enough to quarrel with yours. I come with his apologies."
"Apologies!" repeated both gentlemen, in amazement.
"You are astonished, I see, but remember that I am a mother, though I bear the name of de Fongereues. I know that my son has been greatly in the wrong. I know the whole story, and I cannot see why there should be so much said because the Vicomte de Talizac chanced to admire a daughter of the people. You talk of crime, of infamy. These are large words for a small matter. But the quarrel between the young men is of more importance. They had both been drinking, and I sincerely trust that such folly will be forgotten in view of the old friendship between the families. And I authorize you to kiss my hand as a token of forgiveness and reconciliation."
This little speech had been delivered with such assurance and ease that the old Marquis was nearly taken off his feet. The fair Magdalena was still beautiful.
Monsieur de Montferrand bowed over the fair hand, and Fongereues wondered and admired.