“And do you know, M. Champcey, what has been the effect of your
brutality? Miss Brandon has been seized with such a terrible nervous
attack, that they had to send the carriage for a doctor. You unlucky
man, you might have killed her! They would, of course, never have
allowed me to enter her own room; but from the reception-room I could at
times hear her painful cries and sobs. It was only after eight o’clock
this morning that she could get any rest; and then Mrs. Brian, taking
pity on _my_ great grief, granted me the favor to see her, sleeping like
an infant.”
Daniel listened, stupefied by amazement, utterly confounded by the
impudence of Sir Thorn and Mrs. Brian, and hardly able to understand the
count’s astonishing credulity. He thought to himself,--
“This is abominable! Here I am an accomplice of this Miss Brandon. Must
I actually aid her in obtaining possession of this unlucky man?”
But what could he do? Should he speak? Should he tell Count Ville-
Handry, that if he really heard cries of pain, and sobs, they were
certainly not uttered by Miss Brandon? Should he tell him, that, while
he was dying with anxiety, his beloved was driving about Paris, Heaven
knows where and with whom.
The thought of doing so occurred to Daniel. But what would have been the
good of it? Would the count believe him? Most probably not. And thus
he would only add new difficulties to his position, which was already
complicated enough. Finally, he saw very, clearly that he would never
dare tell the whole truth, or show that letter which he had in his
pocket. Still he tried to excuse himself, and began,--
“I am too much of a gentleman to insult a woman.”