Hortebise, who up to this time had not said a word, now interfered.

“And what did Paul say?” asked he.

“Paul?  Oh, nothing for a moment.  Then he cried out, ‘I see it all now,’ and laughed as if he would have gone into a fit.”

“Did you not understand, my poor child, what this laugh means?  Paul thinks that you have been my accomplice, and believes that it was in obedience to your orders that I went to look for him.”

“Well, and suppose he does?”

“A man like Paul never loves a woman who has run after him; and no matter how great her beauty may be, will always consider that she has thrown herself in his path.  He will accept all her devotion, and make no more return than a stone or a wooden idol would do.  You cannot see this, and God grant that it may be long before the bandage is removed from your eyes.  Can you not read the quality of this foolish boy, who has not a manly instinct in him?”

“Enough!” she cried, “enough!  I am not such a coward as to allow you to insult my husband.”

He shuddered at the thought that his words might cost him his daughter’s love, but Hortebise interposed by putting his arm round Flavia’s waist and leading her from the room.  When he returned, he observed,—­

“I cannot understand your anger.  It seems to me that all recrimination is most indiscreet, for you can at any moment break off this marriage.”

“Do you think it is nothing for me to be at the mercy of that cowardly wretch, Paul?”

“Not more so than you are by the foolish weakness of your daughter.  Is not Paul our accomplice?  And are we any more compromised because he has discovered the secret of your triple personality?”

“Ah! you have not a father’s feelings.  Up till now Paul did not know that I was Mascarin, and believed me to be the victim of blackmailers.  As a dupe he respected me, as an accomplice he will scorn me.  This disastrous marriage must be hastened.”

Paul and Flavia’s marriage took place at the end of the next week, and Paul left his simple bachelor abode to take possession of the magnificent suite of rooms prepared for him by the banker in his house in the Rue Montmartre.  The change was great, but Paul was no longer surprised at anything.  He did not feel the faintest tinge of remorse; he only feared one thing, and that was that by some blunder he might compromise his future, when the eventful day arrived which would give him the social position and standing of heir to a dukedom.

When, however, the Duke de Champdoce came, accompanied by Perpignan, the young imposter rose to the level of his masters, and played his part with most consummate skill.  The Duke, whose life had been one long scene of misery, and who had so cruelly expiated the sins of his youth, seemed to have become suddenly lenient; and had Paul obeyed him, he would at once have established himself with his young wife at the Hotel de Champdoce, but Martin Rigal put a veto upon this, for he was not quite satisfied that his son-in-law was really the heir to the Champdoce dukedom; and finally it was agreed that the Duke should come to breakfast the next morning and take away Paul.  Eleven was the hour fixed, but the Duke appeared at the banker’s house at ten, where he, Catenac, Hortebise, and Paul were assembled together in solemn conclave.