Baron Trigault's Vengeance [163]
which Mademoiselle Marguerite and himself had been victimized. Then when he had finished his explanations he added, in a still more commanding voice, "Now look; you can read the culprits' guilt on their faces. One is the scoundrel known to you as the Viscount de Coralth, but Paul Violaine is his true name. He was formerly an accomplice of the notorious Mascarot; he is a cowardly villain, for he is married, and leaves his wife and children to die of starvation!" The Viscount de Coralth fairly bellowed with rage. But Pascal did not heed him. "The other criminal is the Marquis de Valorsay," he added, in the same ringing tone. There was, moreover, a third culprit who would have inspired mingled pity and disgust if any one had noticed him shrinking into a corner, terrified and muttering: "It wasn't my fault, my wife compelled me to do it!" This was General de Fondege.
Pascal did not mention his name. But it was not absolutely necessary he should do so, and besides, he remembered Marguerite's entreaty respecting the son.
However, while the young lawyer was speaking, the marquis had summoned all his energy and assurance to his aid. Desperate as his plight might be, he would not surrender. "This is an infamous conspiracy," he exclaimed. "Baron, you shall atone for this. The man's an impostor!--he lies!--all that he says is false!"
"Yes, it is false!" echoed M. de Coralth.
But a clamor arose, drowning these protestations, and the most opprobrious epithets could be heard on every side.
"How will you prove your assertion?" cried M. de Valorsay.
"Don't try that dodge on us!" shouted Chupin. "Vantrasson and mother Leon have confessed everything."
"Who defrauded us all with Domingo?" cried several people; and, loud above all the others, Kami-Bey bawled out: "To say nothing of the fact that the sale of your racing stud was a complete swindle!"
Meanwhile, Pascal's former friends and associates, his brother advocates and the magistrates who had listened to his first efforts at the bar, crowded round him, pressing his hands, embracing him almost to suffocation, censuring themselves for having suspected him, the very soul of honor, and pleading in self-justification the degenerate age in which we live--an age in which we daily see those whom we had considered immaculate suddenly yield to temptation. And a murmur of respectful admiration rose from the throng when the excitement had subsided a little, and the guests had an opportunity to observe Mademoiselle Marguerite, whose eyes sparkled more brightly than ever through her happy tears; and whose beauty acquired an almost sublime
expression from her deep emotion.
The wretched Valorsay felt that all was over--that he was irretrievably lost. Seized by a blind fury like that which impels a hunted animal to turn and face the hounds that pursue him, and bid them defiance, he confronted the throng with his face distorted with passion, his eyes bloodshot, and foam upon his lips; he was absolutely frightful in his cynicism, hatred, and scorn. "Ah! well, yes!" he exclaimed--"yes, all that you have just heard is true. I was sinking, and I tried to save myself as best I could. Beggars cannot be choosers; I staked my all upon a single die. If I had won, you would have been at my feet; but I have lost and you spurn me. Cowards! hypocrites! that you are, insult me if you like, but tell me how many among you all are sufficiently pure and upright to have a right to despise me! Are there a hundred among you? are there even fifty?"
A tempest of hisses momentarily drowned his voice, but as soon as the uproar had ceased, he resumed, sneeringly: "Ah! the truth wounds you, my dear friends. Pray, don't pretend to be so distressingly virtuous! I was ruined--that is the long and short of it. But what man of you is not embarrassed? Who among you finds his income sufficient? Which one of you is not encroaching upon his capital? And when you have come to your last louis, you will do what I have done, or something worse. Do not deny it, for not one among you has a
Pascal did not mention his name. But it was not absolutely necessary he should do so, and besides, he remembered Marguerite's entreaty respecting the son.
However, while the young lawyer was speaking, the marquis had summoned all his energy and assurance to his aid. Desperate as his plight might be, he would not surrender. "This is an infamous conspiracy," he exclaimed. "Baron, you shall atone for this. The man's an impostor!--he lies!--all that he says is false!"
"Yes, it is false!" echoed M. de Coralth.
But a clamor arose, drowning these protestations, and the most opprobrious epithets could be heard on every side.
"How will you prove your assertion?" cried M. de Valorsay.
"Don't try that dodge on us!" shouted Chupin. "Vantrasson and mother Leon have confessed everything."
"Who defrauded us all with Domingo?" cried several people; and, loud above all the others, Kami-Bey bawled out: "To say nothing of the fact that the sale of your racing stud was a complete swindle!"
Meanwhile, Pascal's former friends and associates, his brother advocates and the magistrates who had listened to his first efforts at the bar, crowded round him, pressing his hands, embracing him almost to suffocation, censuring themselves for having suspected him, the very soul of honor, and pleading in self-justification the degenerate age in which we live--an age in which we daily see those whom we had considered immaculate suddenly yield to temptation. And a murmur of respectful admiration rose from the throng when the excitement had subsided a little, and the guests had an opportunity to observe Mademoiselle Marguerite, whose eyes sparkled more brightly than ever through her happy tears; and whose beauty acquired an almost sublime
expression from her deep emotion.
The wretched Valorsay felt that all was over--that he was irretrievably lost. Seized by a blind fury like that which impels a hunted animal to turn and face the hounds that pursue him, and bid them defiance, he confronted the throng with his face distorted with passion, his eyes bloodshot, and foam upon his lips; he was absolutely frightful in his cynicism, hatred, and scorn. "Ah! well, yes!" he exclaimed--"yes, all that you have just heard is true. I was sinking, and I tried to save myself as best I could. Beggars cannot be choosers; I staked my all upon a single die. If I had won, you would have been at my feet; but I have lost and you spurn me. Cowards! hypocrites! that you are, insult me if you like, but tell me how many among you all are sufficiently pure and upright to have a right to despise me! Are there a hundred among you? are there even fifty?"
A tempest of hisses momentarily drowned his voice, but as soon as the uproar had ceased, he resumed, sneeringly: "Ah! the truth wounds you, my dear friends. Pray, don't pretend to be so distressingly virtuous! I was ruined--that is the long and short of it. But what man of you is not embarrassed? Who among you finds his income sufficient? Which one of you is not encroaching upon his capital? And when you have come to your last louis, you will do what I have done, or something worse. Do not deny it, for not one among you has a