Mademoiselle Marguerite was thunderstruck. "Who can have furnished you
with these particulars?" she inquired.

"The Marquis de Valorsay, my dearest; and I will explain how he was
enabled to do so. M. de Fondege wrote the address of his 'old comrade'
on this letter, which was folded and sealed, but not enclosed in an
envelope. M. de Chalusse proposed to post it himself, so that the
official stamp might authenticate its date. But on reflection, he became
uneasy. He felt that this tiny, perishable scrap of paper would be
the only proof of the deposit which he had confided to M. de Fondege's
honor. This scrap might be lost, burned, or stolen. Then what would
happen? He had so often seen trustees betray the confidence of which
they had seemed worthy. So M. de Chalusse racked his brains to discover
a means of protection from an improbable but possible misfortune. He
found it. Passing a stationer's shop, he went in, purchased one of those
letter-presses which merchants use in their correspondence, and, under
pretext of trying it, took a copy of M. de Fondege's letter. Having
done this, he placed the copy in an envelope addressed to the Marquis de
Valorsay, and, with his heart relieved of all anxiety, posted it at the
same time as the original letter. A few moments later he got into the
cab in which he was stricken down with apoplexy."

Extraordinary as Pascal's explanations must have seemed to her,
Marguerite did not doubt their accuracy in the least. "Then it is the
copy of this letter which you saw in the possession of the Marquis de
Valorsay?"

"Yes."

"And the original?"

"M. de Fondege alone can tell what has become of that. It is evident
that he has somehow succeeded in obtaining possession of it. Would he
have dared to squander money as he has done if he had not been convinced
that there was no proof of his guilt in existence? Perhaps on hearing
of the count's sudden death he bribed the concierge at the Hotel de
Chalusse to watch for this letter and return it to him. But on this
subject I have only conjectures to offer. If they wish you to marry
their son, it is probably because it seems too hard that you should be
left in abject poverty while they are enjoying the fortune they have
stolen from you. The vilest scoundrels have their scruples. Besides,
a marriage with their son would protect them against any possible
mischance in the future."

He was silent for a moment, and then more slowly resumed: "You see,
M