“Do these explanations which I have the honor to give you seem improbable?”

I explained the meaning of my smile.

“That waiter,” said Jacques Bricheteau, “was not altogether mistaken; for I have long been employed at the prefecture of police in the health department; but I have nothing to do with police espial; on the contrary, I have more than once come near being the victim of it.”

Here a rather ridiculous noise struck our ears, nothing less than a loud snore from my father, who thus gave us to know that he did not take a very keen interest in the explanations furnished in his name with a certain prolixity.  I don’t know whether Jacques Bricheteau’s vanity being touched put him slightly out of temper, but he rose impatiently and shook the arm of the sleeper, crying out:—­

“Hey! marquis, if you sleep like this at the Council of state, upon my soul, your country must be well governed!”

Monsieur de Sallenauve opened his eyes, shook himself, and then said, turning to me:—­

“Pardon me, Monsieur le comte, but for the last ten nights I have travelled, without stopping, to meet you here; and though I spent the last night in a bed, I am still much fatigued.”

So saying he rose, took a large pinch of snuff, and began to walk up and down the room, while Jacques Bricheteau continued:—­

“It is a little more than a year since I received a letter from your father explaining his long silence, the plans he had made for you, and the necessity he was under of keeping his incognito for a few years longer.  It was at that very time that you made your attempt to penetrate a secret the existence of which had become apparent to you.”

“You made haste to escape me,” I said laughing.  “It was then you went to Stockholm.”

“No, I went to your father’s residence; I put the letter that he gave me for you into the post at Stockholm.”

“I do not seize your—­”

“Nothing is easier to understand,” interrupted the marquis.  “I do not reside in Sweden, and we wished to throw you off the track.”

“Will you continue the explanation yourself?” asked Jacques Bricheteau, who spoke, as you may have observed, my dear friend, with elegance and fluency.

“No, no, go on,” said the marquis; “you are giving it admirably.”

“Feeling certain that your equivocal position as to family would injure the political career your father desired you to enter, I made that remark to him in one of my letters.  He agreed with me, and resolved to hasten the period of your legal recognition, which, indeed, the extinction of the family in its other branch rendered desirable.  But the recognition of a natural son is a serious act which the law surrounds with many precautions.  Deeds must be signed before a notary, and to do this by power of attorney would involve both in a publicity which he is anxious for the present to avoid, he being married, and, as it were, naturalized in the country of his adoption.  Hence, he decided to come here himself, obtaining leave of absence for a few weeks, in order to sign in person all papers necessary to secure to you his name and property in this country.  Now let me put to you a final question.  Do you consent to take the name of de Sallenauve and be recognized as his son?”