When I had done, Canaples muttered an oath of the
days of the fourth Henry.
"Ventre St. Gris! Does the dog carry his audacity so far as to dare come
betwixt me and my wishes, and to strive against them? He sought to kill
Mancini, eh? Would to Heaven he had died by the hand of this fellow who
shielded the lad!"
"Monsieur!" I cried, aghast at so unnatural an expression.
"Pah!" he cried harshly. "He is my son in name alone, filial he never
was."
"Nevertheless, Monsieur, he is still your son, your heir."
"My heir? And what, pray, does he inherit? A title--a barren, landless
title! By his shameful conduct he alienated the affection of his uncle,
and his uncle has disinherited him in favour of Yvonne. 'T is she who will
be mistress of this ch?teau with its acres of land reaching from here to
Blois, and three times as far on the other side. My brother, sir, was the
rich Canaples, the owner of all this, and by his testament I am his heir
during my lifetime, the estates going to Yvonne at my death. So that you
see I have naught to leave; but if I had, not a d?nier should go to my
worthless son!"
He spread his thin hands before the blaze, and for a moment there was
silence.
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