"Then, _Sapristi_, Monsieur le Baron, I repeat ten thousand times," cried old Pierre, banging the table with his fist, "that I thank Heaven my daughter ceased to exist before your return from the war. Monsieur le Baron will now understand my sentiments in this matter and will, I trust, for the future retain inviolate the secret he has been good enough to share with me."
Henri bowed and prepared to depart. The man was obviously crazy. Probably the death of Louise had overbalanced his reason. Henri remembered that he had heard long ago of his eccentricity with regard to his daughters and their sex.
"Monsieur will pardon my intrusion," he said politely; "he may rest assured that the secret made over to him shall henceforward remain inviolate in my breast."
When old Pierre returned to his daughter his face betrayed that he was in the best of spirits. He entered the room laughing and swearing round oaths.
"_Âme de mon Épée!_" he exclaimed; "I think we shall have no more visits from this suitor. The devil! He would have carried Louise from under our noses if we and she had been fools enough to let him. Thanks be to Heaven that Louise--if ever for a moment she wavered, as you seem to suppose--quickly recovered her balance. It was your example, Marie, fool that you made of yourself!" Marie laughed.
"You will sing a different song, my father," she said, "when you have a houseful of little grandsons to educate in the art of the sword. What did you tell the Baron?"
"The old tale--the same which we have told others, that Louise died long since. She 'ceased to exist,' that was my expression. _Sapristi_, it is the truth! Louise ceased to exist when Michel Prevost came into existence--is it not so? Ha! so it is!"
Henri d'Estreville sat at his midday meal at the restaurant specially frequented by the officers of his regiment. He wore the aspect of one who is more than ordinarily depressed. He was pale and distrait and neglected the food which had been placed before him.
Several acquaintances entered the room and saluted him as they passed, but he took no notice of them.
"What ails D'Estreville?" men asked one another. "Is it cards or a woman?"
Among others there entered presently Michel Prevost, who was known to very few, having but lately qualified for the right to sit at meals with the class of men mostly frequenting this eating-house and others of its kind.
