The Marquis started. "You have come!" he exclaimed, then dropping his voice, he added, "Quick! Simon?"
"Hush! not so loud!" said Pierre; then whispering in the old man's ear, "He is living!" he said.
The Marquis half closed his eyes, and his lips moved in prayer, while large tears slowly ran down his withered cheeks.
The Marquis belonged to one of the oldest families of Languedoc. His ancestors had served France faithfully and had held positions of trust near the persons of the kings. The present Marquis had committed a fault not easily forgiven by the ancien régime. He had married the daughter of a farmer, when he was twenty, in spite of the threats of his family. This union was of short duration, for his wife died in giving birth to a son. This blow was so sudden that the young man abandoned himself to despair. He shut himself up from the world on an estate he had among the Vosges mountains, and lived only for his child.
The beloved dead, though of peasant blood, had been an extraordinary woman. She, young as she was, had thought much, and felt deeply the sufferings of her class. She pointed out to the Marquis how the people were weighed down by taxes, and how little their hard toil availed them.
"Friend," said Simonne, "thou art wealthy, thou belongest to the privileged class, give and speak. Open thy hand, and raise thy voice!"
She endeavored to awaken in his heart a noble ambition. He was twenty and he loved. Had she lived, Armand would, undoubtedly, have been one of the greatest actors in the crisis then preparing, but now that she was gone, he forgot the glorious legacy she had bequeathed to him. He detested the court, however, and determined that his son should grow up far away from its influences. Simon, therefore, passed his childhood among the mountains drinking in the delicious air, and growing as freely as a young tree.
But Armand was weak. His friends and family, who had fallen away from him at the time of his marriage, now sought to bring him back. He resisted for a time, but at last went to Versailles. The king received him proudly and said, "Monsieur de Fongereues, it is not well in you to abandon us thus. The throne needs its faithful supporters."
A few days later he was presented to Mademoiselle de Maillezais—her beauty was of that quality that dazzles rather than pleases. She made herself very attractive on this occasion, anxious to take back to the king this nobleman who had so nearly been lost.