I was sure of it."
There was a long silence. With one accord, father and son avoided
letting their eyes meet, lest they might encounter glances too eloquent
to bear at so painful a moment.
"You were right, sir," continued the count, "our honour is involved. It
is important that we should decide on our future conduct without delay.
Will you follow me to my room?"
He rang the bell, and a footman appeared almost immediately.
"Neither the viscount nor I am at home to any one," said M. de Commarin,
"no matter whom."
CHAPTER IX.
The revelation which had just taken place, irritated much more than
it surprised the Count de Commarin. For twenty years, he had been
constantly expecting to see the truth brought to light. He knew that
there can be no secret so carefully guarded that it may not by some
chance escape; and his had been known to four people, three of whom were
still living.
He had not forgotten that he had been imprudent enough to trust it to
paper, knowing all the while that it ought never to have been written.
How was it that he, a prudent diplomat, a statesman, full of precaution,
had been so foolish? How was it that he had allowed this fatal
correspondence to remain in existence! Why had he not destroyed, at no
matter what cost, these overwhelming proofs, which sooner or later might
be used against him? Such imprudence could only have arisen from an
absurd passion, blind and insensible, even to madness.
Pages:
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247