“This morning,” continued the marquis, “I was irritated, and thoughtlessly gave way to my temper.  Although I am gray-headed, my disposition is as excitable as that of a fiery young man of twenty years; and I hope you will forget words uttered in a moment of excitement, and now deeply regretted.”

M. Fauvel, being a kind-hearted though quick-tempered man, could appreciate Clameran’s feelings; and, knowing that his own high reputation for scrupulous honesty could not be affected by any hasty or abusive language uttered by a creditor, at once calmed down before so frank an apology; and, holding out his hand to Clameran, said: 

“Let us forget what happened, monsieur.”

They conversed in a friendly manner for some minutes; and, after Clameran had explained why he had such pressing need of the money at that particular hour of the morning, turned to leave, saying that he would do himself the honor of calling upon Mme. Fauvel during the day.

“That is, if a visit from me would not be considered intrusive,” he said with a shade of hesitation.  “Perhaps, after the trouble of this morning, she does not wish to be disturbed.”

“Oh, no!” said the banker; “come, by all means; I think a visit from you would cheer her mind.  I shall be from home all day, trying to trace this unfortunate affair.”

Mme. Fauvel was in the same room where Raoul had threatened to kill himself the night previous; she looked very pale and ill as she lay on a sofa.  Madeleine was bathing her forehead.

When M. de Clameran was announced, they both started up as if a phantom had appeared before them.

Although Louis had been gay and smiling when he parted from M. Fauvel downstairs, he now wore a melancholy aspect, as he gravely bowed, and refused to seat himself in the chair which Mme. Fauvel motioned him to take.

“You will excuse me, ladies, for intruding at this time of your affliction; but I have a duty to fulfil.”

The two women were silent; they seemed to be waiting for him to explain.  He added in an undertone: 

“I know all.”

By an imploring gesture, Mme. Fauvel tried to stop him.  She saw that he was about to reveal her secret to Madeleine.

But Louis would not see this gesture; he turned his whole attention to Madeleine, who haughtily said: 

“Explain yourself, monsieur.”

“Only one hour ago,” he replied, “I discovered that Raoul last night forced from his mother the key of the money-safe, and stole three hundred and fifty thousand francs.”

Madeleine crimsoned with shame and indignation; she leaned over the sofa, and seizing her aunt’s wrist shook it violently, and in a hollow voice cried: 

“It is false, is it not, aunt? speak!”

“Alas! alas!” groaned Mme. Fauvel.  “What have I done?”

“You have allowed Prosper to be accused,” cried Madeleine; “you have suffered him to be arrested, and disgraced for life.”