“You see, then, now these consequences.  After thirty years, I disown the child that bears my name; and I say, that, if he is innocent, he suffers for his mother’s sins.  Fate would have it that your son should covet his neighbor’s wife, and, having taken her, it is but justice that he should die the death of the adulterer.”

“But you know very well that I have never forgotten my duty.”

“I know nothing.”

“You have acknowledged it, because you refused to hear the explanation which would have justified me.”

“True, I did shrink from an explanation, which, with your unbearable pride, would necessarily have led to a rupture, and thus to a fearful scandal.”

The marchioness might have told her husband, that, by refusing to hear her explanation, he had forfeited all right to utter a reproach; but she felt it would be useless, and thus he went on,—­

“All I do know is, that there is somewhere in this world a man whom I wanted to kill.  Gossiping people betrayed his name to me.  I went to him, and told him that I demanded satisfaction, and that I hoped he would conceal the real reason for our encounter even from our seconds.  He refused to give me satisfaction, on the ground that he did not owe me any, that you had been calumniated, and that he would meet me only if I should insult him publicly.”

“Well?”

“What could I do after that?  Investigate the matter?  You had no doubt taken your precautions, and it would have amounted to nothing.  Watch you?  I should only have demeaned myself uselessly; for you were no doubt on your guard.  Should I ask for a divorce?  The law afforded me that remedy.  I might have dragged you into court, held you up to the sarcasms of my counsel, and exposed you to the jests of your own.  I had a right to humble you, to dishonor my name, to proclaim your disgrace, to publish it in the newspapers.  Ah, I would have died rather!”

The marchioness seemed to be puzzled.

“That was the explanation of your conduct?”

“Yes, that was my reason for giving up public life, ambitious as I was.  That was the reason why I withdrew from the world; for I thought everybody smiled as I passed.  That is why I gave up to you the management of our house and the education of your son, why I became a passionate collector, a half-mad original.  And you find out only to-day that you have ruined my life?”

There was more compassion than resentment in the manner in which the marchioness looked at her husband.

“You had mentioned to me your unjust suspicions,” she replied; “but I felt strong in my innocence, and I was in hope that time and my conduct would efface them.”

“Faith once lost never comes back again.”

“The fearful idea that you could doubt of your paternity had never even occurred to me.”

The marquis shook his head.