“And do you know now?”
“Yes, I know in what hospital he is, and that, thanks to his illness which makes flight impossible, and the fear of contagion which keeps every one away from him, he is only guarded by the infirmarians. I hope to get admittance to him to-day.”
“You know him?” repeated the marquis after a moment's reflection. “Then that explains what seemed so mysterious. Your cousin Gabrielle, in that case, perhaps knows him also?”
“Yes, she knows him—the same. as I.”
“That explains everything; and, since it is so, here, Dornthal,” said the marquis, giving him the letter of which he was the bearer, “have the kindness to give her this.”
At the sight of his cousin's writing, Clement was unable to conceal his emotion, and, seeing the marquis' observant eye fastened on him, it seemed useless to conceal the truth. Without any hesitation, therefore, he briefly related all the circumstances of the life of him who was now expiating his faults by the final sufferings of a miserable death.
“I am not afraid, Monsieur le Marquis, to confide to you the secret of his sad life. You will keep it, I am sure, and will never forget, I hope,” added he in a faltering tone, “that it is Fabiano Dini, and not Felix Dornthal, who will be delivered by death from an infamous punishment.”
The marquis pressed his hand. “Rely on my silence, Dornthal.” After a moment, he continued: “This unfortunate man showed great courage during his trial, and absolute contempt of danger for himself. He only seemed preoccupied with the desire of saving him whose destruction he had caused. God forgive him!”
“Yes, truly, God forgive him!” gravely repeated the young man.
Adelardi again extended his hand, and was about to leave the room when Clement stopped him. “Monsieur le Marquis, will you allow me now to ask you a question?”