"Certainly," he replied quickly, checking himself, "but he was the head of the house. Alas! let me see him."
She led them up two flights and into the death chamber, which was heavily hung with black and the windows darkened. Two tapers at the head and two at the feet showed where the corpse lay, and near by stood an altar with lights and flowers, beside which two Black Nuns knelt motionlessly. The visitors crossed the room with bowed heads and looked down at the face of the dead. It had lost its worn look and was at peace. A faint smile, as of proud pleasure, rested on the lips, and Lecour knew that smile was for him. It brought him a strange emotion; he felt as if, though condemned by so many of the living, he was loved by the dead; and a great tenderness towards his pathetic relative welled in his heart. He bent over the face and earnestly wept.
"He loved you, Monsieur le Chevalier," the landlady said, weeping also, "and bade the notary leave with me a copy of his will for you. When Monsieur descends, I shall give it to him."
"Did he talk much before he died?"
"A great deal. The confessor said there was a high fever. He talked of a castle upon a mountain—and about you, Monsieur, a good deal. He was not strong when he came to us: I said from the beginning 'He is on the short way to heaven': he seemed like one who had suffered too much."
They followed her out of the chamber. Lecour could not help some eagerness concerning the will, and perusing it closely when she handed it to him, found it bequeathed him all the testator's possessions. He passed the deed silently to his friend the Baron, who read the first half and caught the drift.
"Your proof is incontestable," he said briefly.
"The difficulty is but the completion of my proofs. I have to go to Canada for that. But assure the company of my return."
"We shall appeal in a body to the Prince."
"I pray you not."