"At last--here he is!" he
muttered, with a sigh of relief.
He expected to see M. Fortunat enter the room at once, but he was
disappointed. The agent had no desire to show himself in the garb
which he had assumed for his excursion with Chupin; and so he had
hastened to his room to don his wonted habiliments. He also
desired a few moments for deliberation.
If--as was most probably the case--M. de Valorsay were ignorant of
the Count de Chalusse's critical condition, was it advisable to
tell him of it? M. Fortunat thought not, judging with reason that
this would lead to a discussion and very possibly to a rupture,
and he wished to avoid anything of the kind until he was quite
certain of the count's death.
Meanwhile the marquis was thinking--he was a trifle late about it--
that he had done wrong to wait in that drawing-room for three
mortal hours. Was such conduct worthy of him? Had he shown
himself proper respect? Would not M. Fortunat construe this as an
acknowledgment of the importance of his services and his client's
urgent need? Would he not become more exacting, more exorbitant
in his demands? If the marquis could have made his escape
unheard, he would, no doubt, have done so; but this was out of the
question. So he resorted to a stratagem which seemed to him
likely to save his compromised dignity. He stretched himself out
in his arm-chair, closed his eyes, and pretended to doze. Then,
when M.
Pages:
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86