I noticed that they were looking at one another in incredulity, so I spoke on, led by I know not what:
"Have I not the honor of addressing Monsieur George Lucien de Brissac, son of the Marquis de Neuville?"
"I am the Marquis de Neuville," exclaimed the youngest, starting to his feet. "My father is dead."
"And my grandfather perished on the scaffold with him and with your brother Guy," I said, calmly.
The effect of this speech was wonderful. The other two men sprang up, and the taller shut the window suddenly and drew the curtain.
Monsieur de Brissac was for hurrying toward me with both hands outstretched, when he was restrained.
"Hold! Hold!" said the eldest. "Let us ask more questions. What was your grandfather's name, my young friend?"
I gave it, and the whole of my family tree, so far as I could remember it, on my mother's side. Then in a few words I told of my sailing on a privateer, my capture and imprisonment. Before I had finished Monsieur de Brissac had come close to me.
"Embrassez-moi!" he said, and despite my rags he threw his arms around my neck.
In turn the other two did likewise, and the elder man kissed me on the forehead, after the manner of my uncle. Tears were in his eyes, and relieved from the great strain under which I had been laboring, I broke down altogether, and sinking into a chair, I wept, rocking myself to and fro. "Oh, God be thanked!" I cried over and over.