But as the mistress was thanking her secretary, the great gate swung on its hinges, and a carriage rolled into the courtyard. Marechal flew to the window, and uttered one word,
Madame Desvarennes motioned to him to leave her, and the banker appeared on the threshold.
At a glance the mistress saw the ravages which the terrible night he had passed through had caused. Yesterday, the banker was rosy, firm, and upright as an oak, now he was bent, and withered like an old man. His hair had become gray about the temples, as if scorched by his burning thoughts. He was only the shadow of himself.
Madame Desvarennes advanced toward him, and in one word asked a world of questions.
Cayrol, gloomy and fierce, raised his eyes to the mistress, and answered:
“Yes, he came. But I had not the necessary energy to kill him. I thought it was an easier matter to become a murderer. And you thought so too, eh?”
“Cayrol!” cried Madame Desvarennes, shuddering, and troubled to find that she had been so easily understood by him whom she had armed on her behalf.
“The opportunity was a rare one, though,” continued Cayrol, getting excited. “Fancy; I found them together under my own roof. The law allowed me, if not the actual right to kill them, at least an excuse if I did so. Well, at the decisive moment, when I ought to have struck the blow, my heart failed me. He lives, and Jeanne loves him.”
“Get rid of him in another way,” answered Cayrol. “I had only two ways of killing him. One was to catch him in my own house, the other to call him out. My will failed me in the one case; my want of skill would fail me in the other. I will not fight Serge. Not because I fear death, for my life is blighted, and I don’t value it; but if I were dead, Jeanne would belong to him, and I could not bear the thought of that even in death. I must separate them forever.”
Cayrol shook his head menacingly, and exclaimed:
“I defy him! If he resist, I will bring him before the assizes!”
“You?” said Madame Desvarennes, going nearer to Cayrol.
“Yes, I!” answered the banker, with energy.
“Wretched man! And my daughter?” cried the mistress. “Think well what you are saying! You would disgrace me and mine.”
“Am I not dishonored myself?” asked Cayrol. “Your son-in-law is a robber, who has defiled my home and robbed my safe.”