"Yes, because this fellow, for whom you would have stolen my father's fortune, is dead. This Fanfar was my brother's son—I know it, and you know it, too, but you do not know that I killed him!"
Labarre drew back in terror.
"No, no—do not say that!"
"Why should I not say it? It is true. I discovered the secret of his birth, and I removed him from my path—I poisoned him!"
The old man staggered to the wall, where he leaned for support.
"Now, denounce me!" cried the Marquis, "and I am ready to mount the scaffold. I killed this Fanfar, and this thought is all that gives me a ray of comfort!"
"Hush! This Fanfar was not the Marquis de Fongereues, he was not Simon's son. Do you remember a night which you once spent in a humble cottage at Sachemont?"
"Sachemont?" repeated Fongereues.
"That night two men claimed the hospitality of an old man. One of these strangers was a Frenchman, but he was base enough to insult the daughter of the old man. He did worse—he committed a dastardly crime. That man, sir, was known as the Marquis de Talizac!"