Heartsick and wretched, St. Genis, after several hours of weary waiting, did ultimately obtain permission to enter the city by the ferry on the south side of the city. Once inside Lyons, he had no difficulty in ascertaining where such a distinguished gentleman as M. le Comte de Cambray had put up for the night, and he promptly made his way to the Hotel Bourbon, his mind, at this stage, still a complete blank as to how he would explain his discomfiture to the Comte and to Crystal.
In the present state of M. le Comte d'Artois' difficulties the money would have been thrice welcome, and St. Genis felt the load of failure weighing thrice as heavily on his soul, and dreaded the reproaches--mute or outspoken--which he knew awaited him. If only he could have thought of something! something plausible and not too inglorious! There was, of course, the possibility that he had failed to come upon the track of the thieves at all--but then he had no business to come back so soon--and he didn't want to come back, only that there was always the likelihood of the Englishman speaking of what had occurred--not necessarily with evil intent . . . but . . . some words of his: "If within a week I hear that the King of France has not received this money, I will proclaim you a liar and a thief!" rang unpleasantly in St. Genis' ears.
The young man's mind, I repeat, was at this point still a blank as to what explanation he would give to the Comte de Cambray of his own miserable failure.
He was returning--after an ardent promise to overtake the thief and to force him to give up the money--without apparently having made any effort in that direction--or having made the effort, failing signally and ignominiously--a foolish and unheroic position in either case.
To tell the whole unvarnished truth, his interview with Clyffurde and his thoughtlessness in wandering along the road all alone, laden with twenty-five million francs, not waiting for the arrival of M. le Comte d'Artois' patrol, was unthinkable.
Then what? St. Genis, determined not to tell the truth, found it a difficult task to concoct a story that would be plausible and at the same time redound to his credit. His disappointment was so bitter now, his hopes of winning Crystal and glory had been so bright, that he found it quite impossible to go back to the hard facts of life--to his own poverty and the unattainableness of Crystal de Cambray--without making a great effort to win back what Victor de Marmont had just wrested from him.