For a change of expression in M. de Coralth's face had enlightened
him; and he suddenly recollected when and under what circumstances
he had known this so-called viscount. He remembered, too, the
name he had borne when he first met him. "Oh!" he stammered; "oh!
oh!"
However, the effect of this discovery was to dispel his anger, or
rather to restore his calmness, and, addressing M. de Coralth, he
exclaimed: "Don't be angry at what I've said, m'sieur; it was only
a jest--I know that there's a wide difference between a poor devil
like me and a viscount like you--I haven't a sou, you see, and
that maddens me. But I'm not so very bad-looking, fortunately,
and I'm always hoping that the daughter of some rich banker will
fall in love with me and marry me. Some people have such luck,
you know. If I meet with any you may be sure I shall pass myself
off as the lost child of some great personage--of a duke, for
instance--and if the real son exists, and troubles me, why I'll
quietly put him out of the way, if possible."
With but one exception the persons present did not understand a
single word of this apparent nonsense; and indeed the yellow-
haired damsels stared at the speaker in amazement. Still it was
evident that each of these words had a meaning, and a terrible
meaning for M. de Coralth. Accustomed for years to control his
features, he remained apparently unmoved--he even smiled; but a
close observer could have detected anguish in his eyes, and he had
become very pale.
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