“Would I not?” said Carew, with a hoarse laugh, throwing up his hand.
“I do not think you would,” answered the Vicomte gravely, but with a certain elevation of his eyebrows. “Your sense of honour would forbid. But there is a matter for which I have some concern--how will this affect your sister?”
“Leave my sister out of the question. I am her protector and allow no man to question me on that head.”
The two looked at one another steadily--the one frowning, the other coldly impassive, but there was that look in De Laprade´s eyes that made Carew shift his gaze. To carry off his confusion, he poured himself out a full glass and drank it at a breath.
“There need be no secrets between us, my good cousin. I have never doubted that you have already staked your sister´s fortune and that it has gone after the rest into my pocket. I have known even honourable men tempted to do such things, but for my own part, I do not care to lend myself to aid them. The question still remains--how does this affect your sister?”
“In the name of God, do you purpose driving me mad?” cried Carew, flinging his empty glass into the fireplace, and leaping to his feet in the access of ungoverned passion. “You have stripped me bare as a bone and brought me to shame and dishonour; now you sit laughing at your handiwork.”
“Your own, sir,” said the Vicomte sternly. “These heroics will not serve their purpose; the question still remains unanswered. I would not willingly take on my shoulders any portion of your disgrace, though indeed I think you would not be loath to let me bear it all. In fine, what do you purpose doing?”
“There is not a better in the world. From the pulpit of my own transgressions I shall read you an excellent sermon. But, again, this is not to the purpose. I would have you know, my excellent cousin, I love your sister and would willingly make her my wife.”
“You may spare yourself the trouble. Were the lady willing, I think not that I should ask your favour. But she is not willing. I fear she loves a better man who deserves her better--for which I do not find fault with her taste.”
“You appear to have studied my family affairs to some purpose, sir.”
“Mr. Orme is a better man than I, nor would I willingly do him an injury,” continued De Laprade softly, “but all things are fair in love, and I think I must ask your help.”