nd energetic search had failed to arrest the fugitive."

Catenac listened to all these exact details with an unpleasant feeling
gnawing at his heart, for he saw that his associates knew everything,
and he had relied upon again securing their confidence by furnishing
them with those details which were evidently already known to them.
Mascarin, however, affected not to notice his surprise, and went on with
his narrative.

"This terrible disappointment will certainly kill the Duke de Champdoce.
It seemed to him that after having so bitterly expiated the crimes and
follies of his youth, he might hope to have his old age in peace
and quiet, with a son who might cheer the loneliness of his desolate
fireside. His countenance, as soon as he appeared before the Duchess,
who had been expecting his return in an agony of anguish and suspense,
told her at once that all hope had fled. In a few days, however, the
Duke had perfectly recovered from the shock, and had decided that to
give up the search would be an act of madness. The world is wide, and
a friendless boy, without a name, difficult to trace; but, with ample
funds, almost anything can be done, and he was willing to sacrifice both
life and fortune to attain his object. So immense were his resources,
that it was easy for him to employ the most skilful detectives; and
whatever the result might be, he had come to look upon this task as a
sacred duty to which he ought to devote all the remaining years of his
life. He swore that he would never rest or cease from his search until
he had been furnished with the indisputable proofs of the existence
or the death of his son. He did not confide all this project to the
Duchess; for he feared--and he had by this time learned to have some
consideration for her enfeebled frame--her health had given way so
completely that any extra degree of excitement might prove fatal to her.
He, therefore, as a preliminary, applied to that element which in the
Rue de Jerusalem acts as the terrestrial guardians of society. But the
police could do nothing for the Duke. They heard what he had to say
gravely, took notes, told him to call again later on, and there was an
end to their proceedings. It can easily be understood that the rank and
position of the Duke prevented him from making his name known in his
inquiries; and as he dared not divulge the whole truth, he gave such a
bald version of the case, that it excited no deep feelings of interest.
At last h