"But I was robbed of that!"

Fernando rose from his chair.

"Permit me," he said, "to decline to enter into any affairs foreign to the matters we have under consideration. I came to offer you peace or war. Peace means fortune and power, and war--"

"War!" repeated Fongereues, "I do not understand you."

"When the Society proposes a compact, when, as I have just done to you, she unveils her secret designs, she holds in reserve a weapon which places at her mercy the man of whom she wished to make an ally, and whom she does not choose to have for an adversary."

"I! I an adversary of the Society of Jesus! You cannot mean what you say."

"Everything is possible, Marquis. This is our ultimatum--either you will accept the proposals I have made, and placing in my hands within five days the million I ask, you will at once begin the campaign whose success is certain, or within five days a certain person will place in the hands of the Procureur de Roi papers which will be your ruin."

"What do you mean?"

Fongereues was livid as he asked this question.

"They are notes, forged by the Vicomte, your son!"

"Talizac a forger! Impossible!"

"I a.s.sure you that it is only too true. Once more, let me ask for your decision."

"I beg you to remember that my devotion to the Society is unalterable.

But a million--you know!"

"You understand," repeated Vellebri, "it is a million that is demanded?"

"Yes, I know. Grant me a little time."

"We give you five days, as I said, at the end of which time the proposition I have named must be presented to the Chamber of Peers."

"I will present it."

"But the Society will not permit you to interfere until you have given the required guarantee. And now, good-morning, sir."

In vain did Fongereues pet.i.tion the Italian to remain, but Fernando bowed coldly and departed.

Fongereues sank back in his chair, utterly crushed. For a few moments he had indulged in the hope of a proud future, and now, knowing that he could not raise a million, he felt that he was in deeper perplexity than ever.

Cyprien now appeared.

"You made a mistake, sir, in hesitating for a moment. Write to the Society that before five days have elapsed you will have fulfilled the conditions imposed."

"That would be folly!"

"Is not Fanfar in prison?"

"What of that? He will not be condemned."

"By the judges, possibly not--but by us."

Fongereues held himself more erect.

"Tell me what you mean, Cyprien?" he asked.

The lacquey laughed.

"I mean simply, that I will kill this Fanfar!"

CHAPTER x.x.xVII.

THE TRIAL.

Political trials are all much alike, and this of Fanfar was no exception. On the day that it was to take place the pretended a.s.sa.s.sin and his pretended accomplice (that is to say Fanfar), were led to the court-room, where the magistrates, in their red robes and ermine, were seated. The newspapers, while attacking Fanfar furiously, had not omitted to mention that the accused was excessively handsome. This naturally brought a large number of women to the trial, and when the prisoner appeared, there was a low hum of admiration and surprise.

Fanfar's companion, the man of whom Fanfar had made, it was said, a tool, excited neither admiration nor sympathy. Fanfar looked at him once and turned away in disgust.

It is now the proper time to say that this man, whom Cyprien had chosen to play the part of regicide, was none other than Fanfar's former enemy, Robeccal himself, who had been found in the closet and liberated by Cyprien.

This man had fallen so low that it mattered little to him what he did.

The lacquey Cyprien profited by this mood, and in a short time obtained the result he desired.

To the declaration of the accused, who had been found secreted in the Tuileries, Fanfar replied with contempt. He told who this man was, and the crimes of which he had been guilty. All this, however, by no means proved that he himself was innocent of partic.i.p.ation in the crime.

Fanfar had not mentioned the affair of the deserted house, for he did not wish his sister's name to appear. This was a great relief to Robeccal, who, in spite of the manner in which he had been treated by La Roulante, did not wish to get her into trouble.

The trial took its course. Robeccal wept and expressed great penitence, said that he loved the king, etc. All this produced an excellent effect on the jury, who considered the fellow a little simple.

Then came Fanfar's turn. He stood with arms folded on his breast, and once turned and looked toward the end of the court-room. He probably saw what he wished, for he smiled, and a light came into his eyes. Then he looked again at the President, and waited. In reality there was no other charge against him than the persistent declaration of Robeccal, but this was by the judges considered quite proof enough of his culpability.

"You belong to a secret a.s.sociation, do you not?" asked the judge.

"I am a Frenchman," answered Fanfar, "and like others of this heroic nation claim liberty of thought and action. Do you call France a secret society?"

The President reproved Fanfar for this speech, and called him in his anger an a.s.sa.s.sin. The young man replied, in a voice of great feeling:

"Only those," he said, "should be called a.s.sa.s.sins who have cut the throat of France and plucked a blood-stained crown from the men!"

There was a great tumult. "Bravo! Fanfar," said a voice among the audience.

Naturally a dozen innocent men were accused of uttering this incendiary exclamation, while Gudel, in a quiet livery, was not interfered with.

Irene de Salves never moved her eyes from Fanfar. Finally, quiet was restored.

"Mr. President," said Fanfar, "my father fell in the French frontier, fighting against the Cossacks and the emigres. There are no a.s.sa.s.sins in our family!"