His
right leg--the unfortunate limb which had been broken when he fell
from his horse in Ireland--seemed stiff, and dragged a trifle more
than usual, but this was probably solely due to the influence of
the atmosphere. He bowed to Mademoiselle Marguerite with every
mark of profound respect, and without seeming to notice the
magistrate's presence.
"You will excuse me, I trust, mademoiselle," said he, "in having
insisted upon seeing you, so that I might express my deep
sympathy. I have just heard of the terrible misfortune which has
befallen you--the sudden death of your father."
She drew back as if she were terrified, and repeated: "My father!"
The marquis did not evince the slightest surprise. "I know," said
he, in a voice which he tried to make as feeling as possible, "I
know that M. de Chalusse kept this fact concealed from you; but he
confided his secret to me."
"To you?" interrupted the magistrate, who was unable to restrain
himself any longer.
The marquis turned haughtily to this old man dressed in black, and
in the dry tone one uses in speaking to an indiscreet inferior, he
replied: "To me, yes, monsieur; and he acquainted me not only by
word of mouth, but in writing also, with the motives which
influenced him, expressing his fixed intention, not only of
recognizing Mademoiselle Marguerite as his daughter, but also of
adopting her in order to insure her undisputed right to his
fortune and his name.
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