f which he has been the
victim. He must passionately long for vengeance, or rather reparation."

"He has no proofs."

"He has your letters, sir."

"They are not decisive, you yourself have told me so."

"That is true, sir; and yet they convinced me, who have an interest in
not being convinced. Besides, if he needs witnesses, he will find them."

"Who? Yourself, viscount?"

"Yourself, sir. The day when he wishes it, you will betray us. Suppose
you were summoned before a tribunal, and that there, under oath, you
should be required to speak the truth, what answer would you make?"

M. de Commarin's face darkened at this very natural supposition. He
hesitated, he whose honour was usually so great.

"I would save the name of my ancestors," he said at last.

Albert shook his head doubtfully. "At the price of a lie, my father,"
he said. "I never will believe it. But let us suppose even that. He will
then call Madame Gerdy."

"Oh, I will answer for her!" cried the count, "her interests are the
same as ours. If necessary, I will see her. Yes," he added with an
effort, "I will call on her, I will speak to her; and I will guarantee
that she will not betray us."

"And Claudine," continued the young man; "will she be silent, too?"

"For money, yes; and I will give her whatever she asks."

"And you would trust, father, to a paid silence, as if one could ever
be sure of a purchased conscience? What is sold to you may be sold to
another. A certain sum may close her mouth; a larger will open it."

"I will frighten her."

"You forget, father, that Claudine Lerouge was Noel Gerdy's nurse, that
she takes an interest in his happiness, that she loves him. How do you
know that he has not already secured her aid? She lives at Bougival. I
went there, I remember, with you. No doubt, he sees her often; perhaps
it is she who put him on the track of this correspondence. He spoke to
me of her, as though he were sure of her testimony. He almost proposed
my going to her for information."

"Alas!" cried the count, "why is not Claudine dead instead of my
faithful Germain?"

"You see, sir," concluded Albert, "Claudine Lerouge would alone render
all your efforts useless."

"Ah, no!" cried the count; "I shall find some expedient."

The obstinate old gentleman was not willing to give in to this argument,
the very clearness of which blinded him. The pride of his blood
paralyzed his usual practical good sense. To acknowledge that he was