"It is true," he said at last.
"You wish me to advise you?"
Lecour nodded.
"With my advice, then, the thing will be simple. First quit the name of Répentigny, which will always create jealousies. I leave to yourself the excuses you will make for having borne it—that you bought the seigniory of that name or that you possess another of the same appellation, or that it was very anciently a possession of your family. The armorials show there were LeCours de Tilly; there were also LeGardeurs de Tilly, related to the LeGardeurs de Répentigny. You might thus claim possible relationship. But, as I have said, I leave to yourself the choice of excuses on that point. Secondly, we must carry out your design of allying yourself with old de Lincy, who is in such horrible need of a friend, that it will be a benefit to you both; and thirdly, you must see to the correction of all marriage contracts, baptismal and death certificates, and other registers by the insertion of the noble appellation which will then belong to your family. This is your case in brief."
Lecour looked at him, heaving a deep breath of relief, and rising, allowed himself to be shown to the sleeping chamber.
When about to breakfast the next morning, on the rolls and wine sent up by the genealogist, he found a tiny package on his plate, opening which he saw a handsome old watch-seal fitted with a newly-cut stone in intaglio, showing a lion rampant on a shield.
The genealogist had had a jeweller cut on an old seal during the night the arms of the de Lincys.
Speculating much, but saying little in reply to Gille's garrulity, he set off with him to the old noble's attic. A voice, broken by asthma, feebly called upon them to enter, and Germain's eyes fell upon, lying on a tattered mattress by the window, the last wreck of a gentleman, with whom he instantly felt the greatest sympathy. The rotten wood floor and partitions of the room were bare of furniture except a worn box and half a dozen dingy oil portraits of ancestors. The occupant's features were pinched with sadness and starvation. His hair was white. He raised himself with dignity to a sitting position, however, and received them with a grave courtesy.
"Pardon us, Monsieur de Lincy!" the genealogist exclaimed; "I have made a discovery which will be so interesting to you that I have hastened to break it without waiting for the sun to rise higher."
"The hour is nothing," de Lincy replied; "I have always received visitors in bed."