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The man named Gratien Bourignard； otherwise called Ferragus； died
yesterday； at his lodgings； rue Joquelet No。 7。 The suspicions we
naturally conceived as to the identity of the dead body have been
completely set at rest by the facts。 The physician of the
Prefecture of police was despatched by us to assist the physician
of the arrondissement； and the chief of the detective police made
all the necessary verifications to obtain absolute certainty。
Moreover； the character of the persons who signed the certificate
of death； and the affidavits of those who took care of the said
Bourignard in his last illness； among others that of the worthy
vicar of the church of the Bonne…Nouvelle （to whom he made his
last confession； for he died a Christian）； do not permit us to
entertain any sort of doubt。
Accept； Monsieur le baron； etc。； etc。
Monsieur de Maulincour； the dowager； and the vidame breathed again
with joy unspeakable。 The good old woman kissed her grandson leaving a
tear upon his cheek； and went away to thank God in prayer。 The dear
soul； who was making a novena for Auguste's safety； believed her
prayers were answered。
〃Well；〃 said the vidame； 〃now you had better show yourself at the ball
you were speaking of。 I oppose no further objections。〃
CHAPTER III
THE WIFE ACCUSED
Monsieur de Maulincour was all the more anxious to go to this ball
because he knew that Madame Jules would be present。 The fete was given
by the Prefect of the Seine； in whose salons the two social worlds of
Paris met as on neutral ground。 Auguste passed through the rooms
without finding the woman who now exercised so mighty an influence on
his fate。 He entered an empty boudoir where card…tables were placed
awaiting players； and sitting down on a divan he gave himself up to
the most contradictory thoughts about her。 A man presently took the
young officer by the arm； and looking up the baron was stupefied to
behold the pauper of the rue Coquilliere； the Ferragus of Ida； the
lodger in the rue Soly； the Bourignard of Justin； the convict of the
police； and the dead man of the day before。
〃Monsieur； not a sound； not a word；〃 said Bourignard； whose voice he
recognized。 The man was elegantly dressed； he wore the order of the
Golden…Fleece； and a medal on his coat。 〃Monsieur；〃 he continued； and
his voice was sibilant like that of a hyena； 〃you increase my efforts
against you by having recourse to the police。 You will perish；
monsieur； it has now become necessary。 Do you love Madame Jules？ Are
you beloved by her？ By what right do you trouble her peaceful life；
and blacken her virtue？〃
Some one entered the card…room。 Ferragus rose to go。
〃Do you know this man？〃 asked Monsieur de Maulincour of the new…comer；
seizing Ferragus by the collar。 But Ferragus quickly disengaged
himself； took Monsieur de Maulincour by the hair； and shook his head
rapidly。
〃Must you have lead in it to make it steady？〃 he said。
〃I do not know him personally；〃 replied Henri de Marsay； the spectator
of this scene； 〃but I know that he is Monsieur de Funcal； a rich
Portuguese。〃
Monsieur de Funcal had disappeared。 The baron followed but without
being able to overtake him until he reached the peristyle； where he
saw Ferragus； who looked at him with a jeering laugh from a brilliant
equipage which was driven away at high speed。
〃Monsieur；〃 said Auguste； re…entering the salon and addressing de
Marsay； whom he knew； 〃I entreat you to tell me where Monsieur de
Funcal lives。〃
〃I do not know； but some one here can no doubt tell you。〃
The baron； having questioned the prefect； ascertained that the Comte
de Funcal lived at the Portuguese embassy。 At this moment； while he
still felt the icy fingers of that strange man in his hair； he saw
Madame Jules in all her dazzling beauty； fresh； gracious； artless；
resplendent with the sanctity of womanhood which had won his love。
This creature； now infernal to him； excited no emotion in his soul but
that of hatred； and this hatred shone in a savage； terrible look from
his eyes。 He watched for a moment when he could speak to her unheard；
and then he said：
〃Madame； your /bravi/ have missed me three times。〃
〃What do you mean； monsieur？〃 she said； flushing。 〃I know that you
have had several unfortunate accidents lately； which I have greatly
regretted； but how could I have had anything to do with them？〃
〃You knew that /bravi/ were employed against me by that man of the rue
Soly？〃
〃Monsieur！〃
〃Madame； I now call you to account； not for my happiness only； but for
my blood〃
At this instant Jules Desmarets approached them。
〃What are you saying to my wife； monsieur？〃
〃Make that inquiry at my own house； monsieur； if you are curious；〃
said Maulincour； moving away； and leaving Madame Jules in an almost
fainting condition。
There are few women who have not found themselves； once at least in
their lives； /a propos/ of some undeniable fact； confronted with a
direct； sharp； uncompromising question；one of those questions
pitilessly asked by husbands； the mere apprehension of which gives a
chill； while the actual words enter the heart like the blade of a
dagger。 It is from such crises that the maxim has come； 〃All women
lie。〃 Falsehood； kindly falsehood； venial falsehood； sublime
falsehood； horrible falsehood；but always the necessity to lie。 This
necessity admitted； ought they not to know how to lie well？ French
women do it admirably。 Our manners and customs teach them deception！
Besides； women are so naively saucy； so pretty； graceful； and withal
so true in lying；they recognize so fully the utility of doing so in
order to avoid in social life the violent shocks which happiness might
not resist；that lying is seen to be as necessary to their lives as
the cotton…wool in which they put away their jewels。 Falsehood becomes
to them the foundation of speech； truth is exceptional； they tell it；
if they are virtuous； by caprice or by calculation。 According to
individual character； some women laugh when they lie； others weep；
others are grave； some grow angry。 After beginning life by feigning
indifference to the homage that deeply flatters them； they often end
by lying to themselves。 Who has not admired their apparent superiority
to everything at the very moment when they are trembling for the
secret treasures of their love？ Who has never studied their ease；
their readiness； their freedom of mind in the greatest embarrassments
of life？ In them； nothing is put on。 Deception comes as the snow from
heaven。 And then； with what art they discover the truth in others！
With what shrewdness they employ a direct logic in answer to some
passionate question which has revealed to them the secret of the heart
of a man who was guileless enough to proceed by questioning！ To
question a woman！ why； that is delivering one's self up to her； does
she not learn in that way all that we seek to hide from her？ Does she
not know also how to be dumb； through speaking？ What men are daring
enough to struggle with the Parisian woman？a woman who knows how to
hold herself above all dagger thrusts； saying： 〃You are very
inquisitive； what is it to you？