“My dear Anthony, did M. Galpin take all of your master’s cartridges
away with him?”
“Oh, no! certainly not.”
“Well, you must instantly go back to Boiscoran, and bring me three or
four cartridges of every number of shot.”
“All right,” said the old man. “I’ll be back in a short time.”
He started immediately; and, thanks to his great promptness, he
reappeared at seven o’clock, at the moment when the family got up from
dinner, and put a large package of cartridges on the table.
M. de Chandore and M. Folgat had quickly opened some of them; and,
after a few failures, they found two numbers of shot which seemed to
correspond exactly to the samples left them by the doctor.
“There is an incomprehensible fatality in all this,” said the old
gentleman in an undertone.
The young lawyer, also, looked discouraged.
“It is madness,” he said, “to try to establish M. de Boiscoran’s
innocence without having first communicated with him.”
“And if you could do so to-morrow?” asked Dionysia.
“Then, madam, he might give us the key to this mystery, which we are in
vain trying to solve; or, at least, he might tell us the way to find it
all out. But that is not to be thought of. M. de Boiscoran is held in
close confinement, and you may rest assured M. Galpin will see to it
that no communication is held with his prisoner.”
“Who knows?” said the young girl.
And immediately she drew M. de Chandore aside into one of the little
card-rooms adjoining the parlor, and asked him,--
“Grandpapa, am I rich?”
Never in her life had she thought of that, and she was to a certain
extent utterly ignorant of the value of money.
“Yes, you are rich, my child,” replied the old gentleman.
“How much do I have?”
“You have in your own right, as coming to you from your poor father and
from your mother, twenty-five thousand francs a year, or a capital of
about five hundred and fifty thousand francs.”
“And is that a good deal?”
“It is so much, that you are one of the richest heiresses of the
district; but you have, besides, considerable expectations.”
Dionysia was so preoccupied, that she did not even protest. She went on
asking,--
“What do they call here to be well off?”
“That depends, my child. If you will tell me”--