M. Fortunat gave a violent start. “Impossible!” he exclaimed.

“Excuse me, monsieur--it must be a vile rascal named Coralth.”

It was a bellow rather than a cry of rage that escaped M. Fortunat’s

lips. To a man of his experience, only a glimmer of light was required

to reveal the whole situation. “Ah! I understand!--I see!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, you are right, Victor; it’s he--Coralth--Valorsay’s tool! Coralth

was the traitor who, in obedience to Valorsay’s orders, ruined the

man who loved Mademoiselle Marguerite. The deed was done at Madame

d’Argeles’s house. So Coralth knows her, and knows her secret. It’s he

who has outwitted me.” He reflected for a moment, and then, in a very

different tone, he said: “I shall never see a penny of the count’s

millions, and my forty thousand francs are gone forever; but, as Heaven

hears me, I will have some satisfaction for my money. Ah!--so Coralth

and Valorsay combine to ruin me! Very well!--since this is the case,

I shall espouse the cause of Mademoiselle Marguerite and of the

unfortunate man they’ve ruined. Ah, my cherubs, you don’t know Fortunat

yet! Now well see if the innocent don’t get the best of you, and if they

don’t unmask you. I shall do my best, since you have forced me to do

it--and gratis too!”

Chupin was radiant; his vengeance was assured. “And I, monsieur,” said

he, “will give you some information about this Coralth. First of all,

the scoundrel’s married and his wife keeps a tobacco-shop somewhere near

the Route d’Asnieres. I’ll find her for you--see if I don’t.”

The sudden stopping of the vehicle which had reached the Place de la

Bourse, cut his words short. M. Fortunat ordered him to pay the

driver, while he himself rushed upstairs, eager to arrange his plan of

campaign--to use his own expression. In his absence a commissionaire had

brought a letter for him which Madame Dodelin now produced. He broke the

seal, and read to his intense surprise: “Monsieur--I am the ward of

the late Count de Chalusse. I must speak to you. Will you grant me an

interview on Wednesday next, at a quarter-past three o’clock? Yours

respectfully,

“MARGUERITE.”

The Count's Millions · 第 26 / 28 题