Fongereues sat with his eyes fixed on the old man.
"The Vicomte fled like a scoundrel, leaving dishonor and despair on his track. But he never knew that the poor girl gave birth to a child—a son."
"What of that!" cried Fongereues, who did not choose to understand.
"Silence! I have not finished. Do you know who took that child and educated him? It was the brother whom you hated. Your victim was dead and he married her sister, and later, when you set the Cossacks on the village of Leigoutte and bade them to kill women and children, there was one child named Jacques and that child was your son."
Fongereues was deadly pale; large drops stood on his brow.
"You lie!" cried the Marquis, "Fanfar was my brother's son."
"Here is the certificate of his birth," said Pierre. "You knew Simon's writing, for you intercepted his letters to your father. Look! these lines tell the story."
"I, eldest son of the Marquis de Fongereues, declare, on my sacred word of honor, that the child who bears my name and passes for my son, is the child of Jacqueline Lemaître and the Vicomte de Talizac."
"The paper is signed with Simon's full name."
The Marquis fell on his knees.