Seated close beside him, with his two hands tightly clasped in those of Louis, Gaston gazed at his brother as a fond mother would gaze at her son just returned from the battle-field.

There was scarcely any danger and excitement which the mate of the redoubtable Captain Warth had not experienced; nothing had ever before caused him to lose his calm presence of mind, to force him to betray that he had a heart.  The sight of this long unseen brother seemed to have changed his nature; he was like a woman, weeping and laughing at once.

“And is this really Louis?” he cried.  “My dear brother!  Why, I should have recognized you among a thousand; the expression of your face is just the same; your smile takes me back twenty-three years.”

Louis did indeed smile, just as he smiled on that fatal night when his horse stumbled, and prevented Gaston’s escape.

He smiled now as if he was perfectly happy at meeting his brother.

And he was much more at ease than he had been a few moments before.  He had exerted all the courage he possessed to venture upon this meeting.  Nothing but pressing necessity would have induced him to face this brother, who seemed to have risen from the dead to reproach him for his crimes.

His teeth chattered and he trembled in every limb when he rang Gaston’s bell, and handed the servant his card, saying: 

“Take this to your master.”

The few moments before Gaston’s appearance seemed to be centuries.  He said to himself: 

“Perhaps it is not he; if it is he, does he know?  Does he suspect anything?  How will he receive me?”

He was so anxious, that when he saw Gaston running downstairs, he felt like fleeing from the house without speaking to him.

Not knowing the nature of Gaston’s feelings, whether he was hastening toward him in anger or brotherly love, he stood perfectly motionless.  But one glance at his brother’s face convinced him that he was the same affectionate, credulous, trusting Gaston of old; and, now that he was certain that his brother harbored no suspicions, he smilingly received the demonstrations lavished upon him.

“After all,” continued Gaston, “I am not alone in the world; I shall have someone to love, someone to care for me.”

Then, as if suddenly struck by a thought, he said: 

“Are you married, Louis?”

“No.”

“That is a pity, a great pity.  It would so add to my happiness to see you the husband of a good, affectionate woman, the father of bright, lovely children!  It would be a comfort to have a happy family about me.  I should look upon them all as my own.  To live alone, without a loving wife to share one’s joys and sorrows, is not living at all:  it is a sort of living death.  There is no joy equal to having the affection of a true woman whose happiness is in your keeping.  Oh the sadness of having only one’s self to care for!  But what am I saying?  Louis, forgive me.  I have you now, and ought not that to be enough?  I have a brother, a kind friend who will be interested in me, and afford me company, instead of the weariness of solitude.”