his master, who added to Cyprien: "Do not go
away. I do not like this visit--I may need your services. Take your
position behind that portiere."

The heavy folds had scarcely fallen over him when the Marquis appeared.
He was a noble-looking, white haired old man. He was excessively pale.

"Monsieur de Fongereues," he said, "we are morally responsible for the
crimes our children commit, are we not?"

"How do you mean?"

"I speak of the Vicomte de Talizac, who is dishonoring himself,
dishonors you, and compromises the cause to which you belong!"

"My son is young--if he has committed some peccadillo----"

"Peccadillo is hardly the word to use. Are you thus lenient toward one
who is some day to bear your name?"

Fongereues writhed under this severe language, and yet he tried to
contain himself, for De Montferrand was a precious ally. It was he who
had induced Monsieur de Salves to accept the overtures of marriage made
by the De Fongereues family.

"Speak," he said, "speak frankly. Your age and the long intimacy
existing between our families give you the right to do so."

"The Vicomte de Talizac has this night endeavored to murder my son!"

"Impossible, sir!"

"My son never lies. He endeavored to prevent an infamous act, and
Talizac attacked him with a knife. Arthur in return slapped the
Vicomte's face."

Fongereues started forward.

"Wait!" said the old gentleman. "Hear my tale. Talizac paid scoundrels
to abduct a girl, a street singer. My son became disgusted with the
adventure, and it was then that the Vicomte attacked him. To-morrow the
journals will all have this tale. I shall lay the facts before Monsieur
de Salves, as it was I who acted as intermediary in the proposed
marriage."

Fongereues became livid. He staggered, and caught at a table for
support.

At this moment a portiere was lifted, and Magdalena, Talizac's mother,
appeared. Fongereues exclaimed:

"Madame! your son is a scoundrel. He is ruined, as are we all! This is
the result of the education you have given him!"

Magdalena looked perfectly unmoved.

"Monsieur de Montferrand," she said, "I am aware that my son has been
unfortunate enough to quarrel with yours. I come with his apologies."

"Apologies!" repeated both gentlemen, in amazement.

"You are astonished, I see, but remember that I am a mother, though I
bear the name of de Fongereues. I know that my son has been greatly in
the wrong. I know the whole story, and I cannot see w