hat, on important occasions, spying was worse than
useless.

M. de Commarin knew all about servants from infancy. His study was,
therefore, a shelter from all indiscretion. The sharpest ear placed at
the keyhole could hear nothing of what was going on within, even when
the master was in a passion, and his voice loudest. One alone, Denis,
the count's valet, had the opportunity of gathering information; but he
was well paid to be discreet, and he was so.

At this moment, M. de Commarin was sitting in the same arm-chair on
which the evening before he had bestowed such furious blows while
listening to Albert.

As soon as he left his carriage, the old nobleman recovered his
haughtiness. He became even more arrogant in his manner, than he had
been humble when before the magistrate, as though he were ashamed of
what he now considered an unpardonable weakness.

He wondered how he could have yielded to a momentary impulse, how his
grief could have so basely betrayed him.

At the remembrance of the avowals wrested from him by a sort of
delirium, he blushed, and reproached himself bitterly. The same as
Albert, the night before, Noel, having fully recovered himself, stood
erect, cold as marble, respectful, but no longer humble.

The father and son exchanged glances which had nothing of sympathy nor
friendliness.

They examined one another, they almost measured each other, much as
two adversaries feel their way with their eyes before encountering with
their weapons.

"Sir," said the count at length in a harsh voice, "henceforth this house
is yours. From this moment you are the Viscount de Commarin; you regain
possession of all the rights of which you were deprived. Listen, before
you thank me. I wish, at once, to relieve you of all misunderstanding.
Remember this well, sir; had I been master of the situation, I would
never have recognised you: Albert should have remained in the position
in which I placed him."

"I understand you, sir," replied Noel. "I don't think that I could
ever bring myself to do an act like that by which you deprived me of
my birthright; but I declare that, if I had the misfortune to do so, I
should afterwards have acted as you have. Your rank was too conspicuous
to permit a voluntary acknowledgment. It was a thousand times better to
suffer an injustice to continue in secret, than to expose the name to
the comments of the malicious."

This answer surprised the count, and very agreeably too. But he