"Well! go there now; ask for monsieur le marquis; say that it is a poor girl who desires to speak with him, to obtain justice, and you will speedily be admitted to the old nobleman's presence. To obtain access to the upright man who reckons duty superior to birth and fortune, one needs no influence; it is enough to be oppressed and to claim his support. Therefore, a sponsor would be of no use to you; on the contrary, it would offend the old marquis, by showing him that you confounded him with those powerful men who are insensible to the laments of the unfortunate."
"Oh! thanks, Sire de Jarnonville, thanks! To-morrow I will go to the Hôtel de Marvejols."
"Does your friend know of your plan?"
"No, indeed! I should not think of mentioning it to her. In the first place, I am sure that she would forbid me to go to her seducer's father; she would be afraid of drawing upon herself that honorable young man's wrath; but he was not ashamed, by presuming upon a poor girl's innocence, to look on while she was cursed and cast out by her parents!—Oh, no! Bathilde shall know nothing about it, seigneur chevalier! If I fail in my undertaking, at all events she will not have this fresh humiliation to add to her grief; if the old marquis listens to me kindly, then it will be time enough to give her heart a little hope."
"Go, brave girl, and may you succeed in your noble purpose!"
The next day, about noon, Léodgard's father was alone in his study. The old nobleman's countenance had seemed sterner than ever of late, because it had become more melancholy.
The desertion of his son, who had entirely ceased to visit the old Hôtel de Marvejols, was the probable cause of the grief which the marquis concealed beneath a prouder and more gloomy expression. But upon that noble brow, furrowed by age, there was something else than sternness to be read.
The marquis was seated in his great easy-chair; a book lay open before him on a table; but he was not reading; his head was resting on his hand, and he seemed absorbed in profound meditation. From time to time he glanced at certain papers that lay scattered over the table, and murmured:
"All his debts are paid; he has contracted no others; and yet he passes his time in fêtes, in orgies, entertaining his friends and their mistresses. The most princely magnificence reigns in that house that he occupies in Rue de Bretonvilliers! Where, in heaven's name, does he obtain this money which he seems to squander so lavishly? Doubtless chance has become favorable to him, but chance cannot be always on one side; and not long ago he lost quite a large sum at the Duc de Soubiran's. Where does he find enough money to meet his insane expenditures? Can it be true, as rumor has it, that some foreign courtesan has given him immense wealth in exchange for his love; and that Léodgard has agreed to that shameful bargain?—Ah! I do not propose to seek any further to learn the source of his fortune; for something tells me that the discovery of that secret would bring the flush of shame to my brow!—And his marriage to Mademoiselle de Mongarcin—I must think no more of that; it will never take place. That nobly born heiress would refuse now to marry a man whose conduct is a constant scandal.—Ah! Léodgard did thoroughly everything that was necessary to prevent that union from being arranged!"
The old man had relapsed into meditation, when the door of his study opened, and old Hector discreetly showed his face before the rest of his body.