ct in
the most odious light possible, pretending he had indulged in all sorts
of harsh rejoinders, and making himself out to be "a man of bronze," or
"a block of marble," as he said.

"You are certainly more courageous than I fancied," said M. de Valorsay
gravely, when the narrative was ended.

"Is that really so?"

"It is, indeed. Now the world is before you. Let your story be noised
abroad--and it will be noised abroad--and you will become a hero.
Imagine the amazement of Paris when it learns that Lia d'Argeles was a
virtuous woman, who sacrificed her reputation for the sake of her son--a
martyr, whose disgrace was only a shameful falsehood invented by two men
of rank to increase the attractions of their gambling-den! It will take
the newspapers a month to digest this strange romance. And whom will all
this notoriety fall upon? Upon you, my dear sir; and as your millions
will lend an additional charm to the romance, you will become the lion
of the season."

M. Wilkie was really too much overwhelmed to feel elated. "Upon my
word, you overpower me, my dear marquis--you quite overpower me," he
stammered.

"I too have been at work," resumed the marquis. "And I have made
numerous inquiries, in accordance with my promise. I almost regret it,
for what I have discovered is--very singular, to say the least. I was
just saying so to Coralth when you came in. What I have learned makes
it extremely unpleasant for me, to find myself mixed up in the affair;
accordingly, I have requested the persons who gave me this information
to call here. You shall hear their story, and then you must decide
for yourself." So saying, he rang the bell, and as soon as a servant
answered the summons, he exclaimed: "Show M. Casimir in."

When the lackey had retired to carry out this order, the marquis
remarked: "Casimir was the deceased count's valet. He is a clever
fellow, honest, intelligent, and well up in his business--such a man
as you will need, in fact, and I won't try to conceal the fact that the
hope of entering your service has aided considerably in unloosening his
tongue."

M. Casimir, who was irreproachably clad in black, with a white cambric
tie round his neck, entered the room at this very moment, smiling
and bowing obsequiously. "This gentleman, my good fellow," said M. de
Valorsay, pointing to Wilkie, "is your former master's only heir. A
proof of devotion might induce him to keep you with him. What you told
me a little while