"LeCour."
"Discovered to be your cousin by Maître Gilles, the expert in genealogy, remember, Chevalier."
"You are very good, I admit," the old noble replied. "Yes, yes," he mused aloud on recovering, permitting his eyes to rest on Germain's face, "he resembles the portrait of my grandfather—that portrait on the right. There is a tradition that a lost branch was flourishing somewhere in distant countries. Maître Gilles, under my pillow you will find the key of my box—my muniment chest. Please to open it and hand me the genealogical tree which is on the top of the parchments. Very good; here then is the branch of which I speak, the progeny of Hippolyte, lieutenant in the marine in 1683: it must be this line. The saints be praised that the grandeur of our fortunes still has so worthy a representative, and that I set my eyes once more upon a LeCour de Lincy. To you these precious portraits of our forefathers and the priceless titles to our nobility and to the ruins of our château shall descend. They shall not be lost, despised and scattered. O mon Dieu! I thank thee."
With tears he reached his arms to Germain and embraced him, and so strange is human nature that Germain, enclosed in that pathetic embrace, began to believe himself really a scion of the lost branch of the de Lincys, descendants of Hippolyte.
Gilles departed, Germain remained. He insisted on aiding the Chevalier to dress, and on supporting his trembling footsteps down the stairway and to the nearest café, where they fittingly celebrated the occasion. The Chevalier eagerly brought Germain back to look over the chest of documents, and gave him permission with joy to obtain authenticated copies, and on parting, towards the end of the day, actually pressed upon him one of those portraits, precious to him as his life-blood.
[CHAPTER XXV]
FACING THE MUSIC
Germain hastened back to Troyes, taking up Dominique on the way. It was evening when his coach brought him past the gate sentry and through the stray groups in the courtyard of the Quarters, so that he noticed nothing particular until he entered Collinot's office to report himself. The Adjutant received him with unusual stiffness. When he, soon after, descended in his uniform and mounted to take command of the change of sentries, the crisis arrived. A large, turbulent Guardsman refused to salute him. Germain stopped, marked the man, and ordered his arrest.
"You arrest me!" the private shouted, conscious of his equal rank with the officers of the ordinary army; "you reptile, you huckster's son! You order gentlemen about!—you, Lecour, the man of the stolen name!"
"Monsieur Brigadier, conduct this gentleman to the guardhouse," firmly ordered Lecour.