Pride: One of the Seven Cardinal Sins

"You will be thoroughly enlightened soon, I tell you. But, by the way, be sure not to forget about the work M. Olivier did for the steward of the Château de Beaumesnil, near Luzarches."

"I shall not forget that, for I intend to introduce the subject in that way; and permit me to say that I am to start out with a colossal lie, my dear marquis."

"But, as this colossal lie is sure to bring out the truth in the most incontrovertible fashion, you need feel no scruples! You will certainly have no cause to regret it, either, for what is about to occur will be quite as much to your advantage as to that of Mlle. de Beaumesnil, perhaps. I am going to summon her now, and do not have M. Olivier ushered in until after you know that we are in the next room, remember."

"Oh, I understand all about that. Go at once, my dear marquis, and use the back stairs. It is the shortest way, and M. Olivier, who is waiting in the library, will not see you."

The marquis complied with these instructions, and soon found himself in Mlle. de Beaumesnil's apartments.

"Ah, M. de Maillefort," exclaimed Ernestine, her face radiant, and her eyes still filled with tears of joy, "Herminie has told me all. Her happiness seems certain to equal mine, – if mine is realised."

"Come quick, my child," exclaimed the hunchback. "M. Olivier is up-stairs now."

"Herminie can accompany me, can she not, M. de Maillefort? She will be near me to keep up my courage – "

"Your courage?"

"Yes, for now I confess that, in spite of myself, I am sorry that I consented to this test."

"But was not this test necessary to overcome Olivier's scruples, my dear child? Remember, too, that these scruples are probably the most dangerous obstacles you will have to overcome now."

"Alas! that is only too true," said Mlle. de Beaumesnil, sadly.

"Then come, my child, come at once. Herminie shall accompany you. She must be the first to congratulate you."

"Or to console me," added Ernestine, unable to conquer her fears. "But it is better I should know my fate as soon as possible," she continued, resolutely. "Let us go up to my guardian's apartments at once, M. de Maillefort."

Three minutes afterwards, Ernestine, Herminie, and M. de Maillefort were in the baron's parlour, which was separated from his study only by a closely drawn portière, which the hunchback opened a little way in order to inform M. de la Rochaiguë that they were there.

"Very well," replied the baron.

He rang the bell.

"Show M. Olivier Raymond in," he said to the servant who answered the summons, and who almost immediately announced:

"M. Olivier Raymond, sir."

On hearing Olivier enter the adjoining room, Ernestine turned as pale as death, and, seizing with one hand the hand of Herminie, and with the other the hand of M. de Maillefort, she whispered, tremblingly:

"Oh, stay close by me, I entreat you. Do not leave me. Oh, my God, what a solemn moment this is!"

"Hush! Olivier is speaking," whispered M. de Maillefort; "let us listen. We must not miss a word."

And all three listened, with breathless anxiety, to the following conversation between Olivier and M. de la Rochaiguë.

CHAPTER XXVI

A CRUCIAL MOMENT

When Olivier Raymond entered M. de la Rochaiguë's study, his face expressed astonishment, mingled with a lively curiosity.

The baron bowed courteously, and, after having motioned his visitor to a seat, inquired:

"Is it to M. Olivier Raymond that I have the honour of speaking?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"A second lieutenant in the Third Hussars?"

"The same, monsieur."

"From the letter I had the honour to write you, monsieur, you know that I am – "

"M. le Baron de la Rochaiguë, monsieur, though I have not the honour of your acquaintance. May I now inquire to what important personal matter you referred in your recent letter?"

"Certainly, monsieur. Pray be kind enough to give me your close attention, and, above all, not to be surprised at any singular, strange, and extraordinary facts which I may have the honour to communicate."

Olivier gazed at the baron with such evident astonishment that Mlle. de Beaumesnil's guardian cast an involuntary glance towards the portière, behind which Herminie, Ernestine, and M. de Maillefort were listening to the conversation.

"Monsieur," continued the baron, again turning to Olivier, "a few weeks ago you were at a château, near Luzarches, assisting a master mason, who had undertaken some repairs upon this property, in making his estimates."

"That is true, monsieur," replied Olivier, little suspecting the import of all this.

"After these estimates were finished, you remained several days to assist the steward in straightening up his accounts, did you not?"

"That is also true, monsieur."

"This château," resumed the baron, with an air of great importance, "belongs to Mlle. de Beaumesnil, the richest heiress in France."

"I was so informed during my stay there. But may I know the object of these questions?"

"In one moment, monsieur; but will you first oblige me by glancing over this document?"

And the baron took from his desk a folded paper and handed it to Olivier.

While the young man was hastily perusing this document, the baron said:

"You will see by this document, which is a certified copy of the deliberations of the family council, convoked after the death of the late Comtesse de Beaumesnil, you will see, I repeat, from this document, that I am the legally appointed guardian and trustee of Mlle. de Beaumesnil."

"I perceive so," replied Olivier, returning the document, "but I fail to see that this fact interests me in any way."

"It was of the utmost importance that you should be enlightened as to my legal, official, and judicial connection with Mlle. de Beaumesnil, in order that what I may have the honour to say to you on the subject of my ward will be invested with irresistible, unmistakable, and incontestable authority in your eyes."

This flow of words, monotonous and measured as the movements of a pendulum, was beginning to make Olivier all the more impatient, as he could not imagine whither all these grave preliminaries were tending.

In fact, he gazed at the baron with such a bewildered air that M. de la Rochaiguë said to himself:

"One might really suppose that I was talking Hebrew to him. He evinces so little emotion on hearing the name of Mlle. de Beaumesnil that one would suppose he did not even know her. What does all this mean? That cunning devil of a marquis was right when he told me that I must be prepared for very surprising developments."