"I beg pardon, monsieur, but your name, please?"
The stranger's voice was no longer the same; it had lost the harsh, stern accent which seemed natural to it and had taken on an entirely new tone; his changed manner of address was that of a man who is accustomed to good society.
Alfred and Edouard were struck by the change which had taken place in the poor devil's aspect. But he repeated his question and Alfred replied:
"My name--why, you have just heard it,--Alfred de Marcey."
"Are you the son of the Baron de Marcey who was a colonel of cavalry?"
"Yes, he is my father. How do you know? Did you ever know him?"
"Yes,--that is to say, I have often heard him spoken of. But how old are you?"
"How old!" said Alfred in surprise; "twenty-four years."
The stranger seemed to reflect and to try to collect his memories; then he muttered in an undertone:
"Twenty-four years! Oh, yes! I remember, he had a son by his first wife--I heard that. And have you any brothers or sisters?"
"No, I have none," replied Alfred, whose curiosity was keenly aroused. "But might I know what interest you can possibly have in knowing about my family?"
The stranger evidently tried to assume his usual air of indifference as he replied:
"Oh! I asked you that just for the sake of talking, that is all. Is your father still alive?"
"No, he is in Paris. Did you ever serve in his regiment?"
"No; not in his regiment exactly; but I did serve in the army once."
"You have defended your country, and now you are unfortunate and a vagrant!" cried Alfred. "Oh! forgive me, monsieur! I spoke to you rather hastily just now; I am a thoughtless fellow; I often make mistakes and am sorry for them afterward; but Edouard will tell you that my heart is in the right place. Come, prove that you bear me no grudge by accepting this purse, and let me have the pleasure of helping an old soldier."
As he spoke, Alfred handed the traveller a purse filled with gold; he glared at it with covetous eyes, but still his hand repulsed the hand that was held out to him, and he answered with something like bitterness in his tone:
"No, I don't want your money; I am not in need of anything."
"You refuse me," said Alfred; "I see, you bear me ill will for my hasty speech of a moment ago. Well! as you have known my father, I offer you this trifling sum in his name."