“’My dearly loved Valerie,’—­

“Valerie,” said he, “is Madame Gerdy.”

“I know, I know.  Do not interrupt yourself.”

Noel then resumed.

“’My dearly loved Valerie,

“’This is a happy day.  This morning I received your darling letter, I have covered it with kisses, I have re-read it a hundred times; and now it has gone to join the others here upon my heart.  This letter, oh, my love! has nearly killed me with joy.  You were not deceived, then; it was true!  Heaven has blessed our love.  We shall have a son.

“’I shall have a son, the living image of my adored Valerie!  Oh! why are we separated by such an immense distance?  Why have I not wings that I might fly to your feet and fall into your arms, full of the sweetest voluptuousness!  No! never as at this moment have I cursed the fatal union imposed upon me by an inexorable family, whom my tears could not move.  I cannot help hating this woman, who, in spite of me bears my name, innocent victim though she is of the barbarity of our parents.  And, to complete my misery, she too will soon render me a father.  Who can describe my sorrow when I compare the fortunes of these two children?

“’The one, the son of the object of my tenderest love, will have neither father nor family, nor even a name, since a law framed to make lovers unhappy prevents my acknowledging him.  While the other, the son of my detested wife, by the sole fact of his birth, will be rich, noble, surrounded by devotion and homage, with a great position in the world.  I cannot bear the thought of this terrible injustice!  How it is to be prevented, I do not know:  but rest assured I shall find a way.  It is to him who is the most desired, the most cherished, the most beloved, that the greater fortune should come; and come to him it shall, for I so will it.’”

“From where is that letter dated?” asked old Tabaret.  The style in which it was written had already settled one point in his mind.

“See,” replied Noel.  He handed the letter to the old fellow, who read,—­

“Venice, December, 1828.”

“You perceive,” resumed the advocate, “all the importance of this first letter.  It is like a brief statement of the facts.  My father, married in spite of himself, adores his mistress, and detests his wife.  Both find themselves enceinte at the same time, and his feelings towards the two infants about to be born, are not at all concealed.  Towards the end one almost sees peeping forth the germ of the idea which later on he will not be afraid to put into execution, in defiance of all law human or divine!”

He was speaking as though pleading the cause, when old Tabaret interrupted him.

“It is not necessary to explain it,” said he.  “Thank goodness, what you have just read is explicit enough.  I am not an adept in such matters, I am as simple as a juryman; however I understand it admirably so far.”