But you are young--and I am an old man;
and it is my duty--even if my heart did not urge me to do so--to
offer you the aid of my experience----"
"Speak, monsieur," interrupted Marguerite. "I will answer your
questions frankly, or else not answer them at all."
"To resume, then," said he, "I am told that M. de Chalusse has no
relatives, near or remote. Is this the truth?"
"So far as I know--yes, monsieur. Still, I have heard it said
that a sister of his, Mademoiselle Hermine de Chalusse, abandoned
her home twenty-five or thirty years ago, when she was about my
age, and that she has never received her share of the enormous
fortune left by her parents."
"And has this sister never given any sign of life?"
"Never! Still, monsieur, I have promised you to be perfectly
frank. That letter which the Count de Chalusse received
yesterday, that letter which I regard as the cause of his death--
well, I have a presentiment that it came from his sister. It
could only have been written by her or--by that other person whose
letters--and souvenirs--you found in the escritoire."
"And--this other person--who can she be?" As the young girl made
no reply, the magistrate did not insist, but continued: "And you,
my child, who are you?"
She made a gesture of sorrowful resignation, and then, in a voice
faltering with emotion, she answered: "I do not know, monsieur.
Perhaps I am the count's daughter. I should be telling an untruth
if I said that was not my belief.
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