ce they would only end by
binding him the more firmly in his father's heart. He could thus make a
merit of his compliance, and would ask a reward for his weakness. And,
when Noel returned to the charge, he would find himself in presence of
the count, who would boldly deny everything, politely refuse to have
anything to do with him and would possibly have him driven out of the
house, as an impostor and forger."

It was a strange coincidence, but yet easily explained, that M. de
Commarin, while telling his story, arrived at the same ideas as the
magistrate, and at conclusions almost identical. In fact, why that
persistence with respect to Claudine? He remembered plainly, that, in
his anger, he had said to his son, "Mankind is not in the habit of
doing such fine actions for its own satisfaction." That great
disinterestedness was now explained.

When the count had ceased speaking, M. Daburon said: "I thank you, sir.
I can say nothing positive; but justice has weighty reasons to believe
that, in the scene which you have just related to me, Viscount Albert
played a part previously arranged."

"And well arranged," murmured the count; "for he deceived me!"

He was interrupted by the entrance of Noel, who carried under his arm a
black shagreen portfolio, ornamented with his monogram.

The advocate bowed to the old gentleman, who in his turn rose and
retired politely to the end of the room.

"Sir," said Noel, in an undertone to the magistrate, "you will find all
the letters in this portfolio. I must ask permission to leave you at
once, as Madame Gerdy's condition grows hourly more alarming."

Noel had raised his voice a little, in pronouncing these last words; and
the count heard them. He started, and made a great effort to restrain
the question which leaped from his heart to his lips.

"You must however give me a moment, my dear sir," replied the
magistrate.

M. Daburon then quitted his chair, and, taking the advocate by the hand,
led him to the count.

"M. de Commarin," said he, "I have the honour of presenting to you M.
Noel Gerdy."

M. de Commarin was probably expecting some scene of this kind: for not a
muscle of his face moved: he remained perfectly calm. Noel, on his side,
was like a man who had received a blow on the head; he staggered, and
was obliged to seek support from the back of a chair.

Then these two, father and son, stood face to face, apparently deep in
thought, but in reality examining one anoth