ascertained that his wife had given birth to a child in his
absence, he moved heaven and earth not only to discover the child,
but its father also. He had sworn to kill them both; and he was a
man to keep his vow unmoved by a thought of the guillotine. And
if you require a proof of his strength of character, here it is:
He said nothing to his wife on the subject, he did not utter a
single reproach; he treated her exactly as he had done before his
absence. But he watched her, or employed others to watch her,
both and night, convinced that she would finally commit some act
of imprudence which would give him the clue he wanted.
Fortunately, she was very shrewd. She soon discovered that her
husband knew everything, and she warned M. de Chalusse, thus
saving his life."

It is not at all remarkable that the Marquis de Valorsay should
have failed to see any connection between his narrative and the
baron's agitation. What possible connection could there be
between opulent Baron Trigault and the poor devil who went to seek
his fortune in America? What imaginable connection could there be
between the confirmed gambler, who was Kami-Bey's companion, Lia
d'Argeles's friend, and the husband who for ten long years had
pursued the man who, by seducing his wife, had robbed him of all
the happiness of life? Another point that would have dispelled any
suspicions on the marquis's part was that he had found the baron
greatly agitated on arriving, and that he now seemed to be
gradually regaining his composure. So he continued his story in
his customary light, mocking tone. It is the perfection of good
taste and high breeding--"proper form," indeed, not to be
astonished or moved by anything, in fact to sneer at everything,
and hold one's self quite above the emotions which disturb the