He believed, however, that he recognized Maurice d'Escorval.



CHAPTER XVIII

After his son's confession, M. d'Escorval was prudent enough to make no
allusion to the hopes he, himself, entertained.

"My poor Maurice," he thought, "is heart-broken, but resigned. It is
better for him to remain without hope than to be exposed to the danger
of another disappointment."

But passion is not always blind. What the baron concealed, Maurice
divined; and he clung to this faint hope as tenaciously as a drowning
man clings to the plank which is his only hope of salvation.

If he asked his parents no questions it was only because he was
convinced that they would not tell him the truth.

But he watched all that went on in the house with that subtleness of
penetration which fever so often imparts.

Not one of his father's movements escaped his vigilant eye and ear.

Consequently, he heard him put on his boots, ask for his hat, and select
a cane from among those standing in the vestibule. He also heard the
outer gate grate upon its hinges.

"My father is going out," he said to himself.