So great was his anxiety that he lent a helping hand in harnessing the horses he had ordered, and when the vehicle was ready, he announced his determination to drive himself. As he urged the horses furiously onward, he tried to reflect, but the most contradictory ideas were seething in his brain and he lost all power of looking at the situation calmly. He burst into Martial’s room like a bombshell. “I certainly think you must have gone mad, marquis,” he exclaimed. “That is the only valid excuse you can offer.”
But Martial, who had been expecting the visit, had fully prepared himself for some such remark. “Never, on the contrary, have I felt more calm and composed in mind,” he replied, “than I am now. Allow me to ask you one question. Was it you who sent the gendarmes to the meeting which Maurice d’Escorval appointed?”
“Very well! Then it was another act of infamy to be scored against the Marquis de Courtornieu.”
The duke made no reply. In spite of all his faults and vices, this haughty nobleman retained those characteristics of the old French aristocracy--fidelity to his word and undoubted valour. He thought it perfectly natural, even necessary, that Martial should fight with Maurice; and he considered it a contemptible proceeding to send armed soldiers to seize an honest and confiding opponent.
“This is the second time,” resumed Martial, “that this scoundrel has tried to dishonour our name; and if I am to convince people of the truth of this assertion, I must break off all connection with him and his daughter. I have done so, and I don’t regret it, for I only married her out of deference to your wishes, and because it seemed necessary for me to marry, and because all women, excepting one, who can never be mine, are alike to me.”
Such utterances were scarcely calculated to re-assure the duke. “This sentiment is very noble, no doubt,” said he; “but it has none the less ruined the political prospects of our house.”
An almost imperceptible smile curved Martial’s lips. “I believe, on the contrary, I have saved them,” replied he. “It is useless for us to attempt to deceive ourselves; this affair of the insurrection has been abominable, and you ought to bless the opportunity this quarrel gives you to free yourself from all responsibility in it. You must go to Paris at once, and see the Duke de Richelieu--nay, the king himself, and with a little address, you can throw all the odium on the Marquis de Courtornieu, and retain for yourself only the prestige of the valuable services you have rendered.”