Was it possible? The inner voice, stilled for a moment by the words engraved on the ring, again began to be heard. It replied that a liaison between Ely and Pierre was not only possible; it was probable; it was even certain.—And still the indisputable facts to support this feeling of certitude were far from numerous. But others began to be gathered. In the first place, Pierre disclosed a secret to his friend in the name of Corancez, who had not been blind to the coldness of his old schoolfellow.
"You were not very pleased to see Corancez walk into our compartment. He felt it. Now admit it."
"That is one of the customs of this region," replied Olivier. "I simply think he might have spared me this association with my wife. All the better for him if Madame Bonnacorsi is his mistress, but for him to present her to us in the way he did is, I think, rather cool."
"She is not his mistress," replied Hautefeuille. "She is his wife. He has just asked me to tell you. I will explain all about it."
Pierre continued with the story, in a few hurried words, of the extraordinary secret marriage, of Navagero's tyranny over his sister, of the resolution the lovers had taken, of the departure of them all upon the yacht, and of the ceremony in the ancient Genoese palace. To make this disclosure he had seized the moment, in the vestibule of the restaurant, when Berthe was taking off her veil and cloak a few paces away, and while they themselves were handing their overcoats to the cloak-room attendant. It was the first minute they had had alone since the arrival of the train.
"But, with all that to do, you cannot have had time to see Genoa?" said Olivier, as his wife approached.
"Oh, yes. The sea was so rough that we did not return until next day."
"They passed the night together there," thought Olivier. Even if they had passed it on the boat, his conclusion would have been the same. And then, just as though Fate were obstinately trying to dissipate his last lingering doubts, Hautefeuille stopped as they were traversing the restaurant to secure a table. Among the mingled crowd of diners Pierre saluted four people seated round a table more richly appointed than the others and embellished with rare flowers.
"Did you not recognize your former cotillon partner?" he asked Olivier, when he was once more with the Du Prats.
"Yvonne de Chésy? How little she has changed.—Yes, she is very young," replied Olivier.