He knows it as you know it now. Esperance consented to marry him
through gratitude to you."
"Ah! I feared as much," said the professor prostrated.
Francois Darbois remained a long time in thought, then he got up, his
face lined with sadness.
"Tell your cousin to come to me, I will wait for her here."
"I will send her to you at once. Forgive me for having so distressed
you, dear uncle."
"It was your duty!"
Francois pressed his hand affectionately. Left alone he felt
despairing. The futility of the precautions he had taken, the inanity
of all reasoning, of all logic, plunged him into the scepticism he had
been combatting for so many years.
Maurice found his cousin talking to Albert, the Marquis of Montagnac,
and Genevieve.
"Your father is feeling a little indisposed and is going to bed. Would
not you like to say good-night to him?"
Esperance rose immediately. Albert wanted to go with her, but Maurice
held him back, and began asking under what conditions he proposed to
play the duet with Esperance next day.
"It is all one to me," replied the Count wearily. "I am in a hurry to
get away from here. I find myself too much disturbed by my nerves, and
you know, cousin, how unusual it is for me to be nervous."
At this term of family familiarity, Maurice shivered. He thought of
the interview now taking place in his uncle's room. Genevieve joined
them and they strolled up and down, but Albert made them return
continually near the tower.
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