ur father did
for mine. You will explain the duties of the stewardship in a proper
manner to Monsieur de Reybert, who succeeds you. Be calm, as I am.
Give no opportunity for fools to talk. Above all, let there be no
recrimination or petty meanness. Though you no longer possess my
confidence, endeavor to behave with the decorum of well-bred persons. As
for that miserable boy who has wounded me to death, I will not have
him sleep at Presles; send him to the inn; I will not answer for my own
temper if I see him."

"I do not deserve such gentleness, monseigneur," said Moreau, with tears
in his eyes. "Yes, you are right; if I had been utterly dishonest I
should now be worth five hundred thousand francs instead of half that
sum. I offer to give you an account of my fortune, with all its details.
But let me tell you, monseigneur, that in talking of you with Madame
Clapart, it was never in derision; but, on the contrary, to deplore your
state, and to ask her for certain remedies, not used by physicians, but
known to the common people. I spoke of your feelings before the boy, who
was in his bed and, as I supposed, asleep (it seems he must have been
awake and listening to us), with the utmost affection and respect.
Alas! fate wills that indiscretions be punished like crimes. But while
accepting the results of your just anger, I wish you to know what
actually took place. It was, indeed, from heart to heart that I spoke
of you to Madame Clapart. As for my wife, I have never said one word of
these things--"

"Enough," said the count, whose conviction was now complete; "we are not
children. All is now irrevocable. Put your affairs and mine in order.
You can stay in the pavilion until October. Monsieur and Madame de
Reybert will lodge for the present in the chateau; endeavor to keep on
terms with them, like well-bred persons who hate each other, but still
keep up appearances."

The count and Moreau went downstairs; Moreau white as the count's hair,
the count himself calm and dignified.

During the time this interview lasted the Beaumont coach, which left
Paris at one o'clock, had stopped before the gates of the chateau, and
deposited Maitre Crottat, the notary, who was shown, according to the
count's orders, into the salon, where he found his clerk, extremely
subdued in manner, and the two painters, all three of them painfully
self-conscious and embarrassed. Monsieur de Reybert, a man of fifty,
with a crabbed expression of face,