“Well, yes, it was you who fought, that is true; but we were told that we would all have to fight if we did not to-day, and here, publicly retract the remarks that were made concerning Madame Dalmont and her young friend.”
“And who dared to demand that?” cried Thélénie, pale with wrath.
“Paul and his dog—that is, the dog didn’t say anything, but he looked at us pretty hard. However, madame, those gentlemen are coming here, and they will explain themselves more fully.”
“Who are coming here, monsieur?”
“The owner of the Tower, with——”
“I don’t propose that that man shall put his foot inside my door. Ah! this is carrying his contempt too far, and I am going to forbid——”
Thélénie had not had time to finish her sentence, when Paul Duronceray entered the salon, attended by Edmond and Freluchon.
No longer in the guise of the hunter who shuns the world, no longer with an untrimmed beard and with his head covered by an otter cap the vizor of which concealed his eyes, did the owner of the Tower present himself; he appeared before the notables of Chelles in the costume of a man of the world, which he wore with as much ease as distinction of manner.
Paul walked straight to Thélénie; his glance was terrifying to behold, and despite her usual audacity, despite all her efforts to overcome her terror, Thélénie shuddered, trembled and lowered her eyes before him.
“You propose to forbid my entering this house, madame,” exclaimed Paul in a powerful voice; “I can well believe it; you divine, doubtless, that I know your crimes, and you are afraid that I might reveal them to your numerous acquaintances.”