“Poor woman!”

“I acted my part very well, as you must confess.  I was grave, cold, indignant, and represented the distressed uncle to perfection.  I spoke of the old probity of the Clamerans, and bemoaned that the family honor should be dragged in the dust by a degenerate descendant.  For a short time I triumphed at your expense; Mme. Fauvel forgot her former prejudice against me, and soon showed that she esteemed and liked me.”

“That must have been a long time ago.”

Louis paid no attention to this ironical interruption.

“Now we come to the third scene,” he went on to say, “the time when Mme. Fauvel, having Madeleine for an adviser, judged us at our true value.  Oh! you need not flatter yourself that she did not fear and despise us both.  If she did not hate you, Raoul, it was because a mother’s heart always forgives a sinful child.  A mother can despise and worship her son at the same time.”

“She has proved it to me in so many touching ways, that!—­yes, even I, hardened as I am—­was moved, and felt remorse.”

“Parbleu!  I have felt some pangs myself.  Where did I leave off?  Oh, yes!  Mme. Fauvel was frightened, and Madeleine, bent on sacrificing herself, had discarded Prosper, and consented to marry me, when the existence of Gaston was suddenly revealed.  And what has happened since?  You have succeeded in convincing Mme. Fauvel that you are pure, and that I am blacker than hell.  She is blinded by your noble qualities, and she and Madeleine regard me as your evil genius, whose pernicious influence led you astray.”

“You are right, my venerated uncle; that is precisely the position you occupy.”

“Very good.  Now we come to the fifth act, and our comedy needs entire change of scenery.  We must veer around.”

“Change our tactics?”

“You think it difficult, I suppose?  Nothing easier.  Listen attentively, for the future depends upon your skilfulness.”

Raoul leaned back in his chair, with folded arms, as if prepared for anything, and said: 

“I am ready.”

“The first thing for you to do,” said Louis, “is to go to Mme. Fauvel to-morrow, and tell her the story about my natural brother.  She will not believe you, but that makes no difference.  The important thing is, for you to appear convinced of the truth of what you tell her.”

“Consider me convinced.”

“Five days hence, I will call on M. Fauvel, and confirm the notification sent him by my notary at Oloron, that the money deposited in the bank now belongs to me.  I will repeat, for his benefit, the story of the natural brother, and ask him to keep the money until I call for it, as I have no occasion for it at present.  You, who are so distrustful, my good nephew, may regard this deposit as a guarantee of my sincerity.”

“We will talk of that another time.  Go on.”

“Then I will go to Mme. Fauvel, and say, ’Being very poor, my dear madame, necessity compelled me to claim your assistance in the support of my brother’s son, who is also yours.  This youth is worthless and extravagant.’”