Fifteen centuries of spotless fame end with me in infamy." M.Daburon considered Count de Commarin's conduct unpardonable, and had determined not to spare him.
He had expected to meet a proud, haughty noble, almost unmanageable; and he had resolved to humble his arrogance.
Perhaps the harsh treatment he had received of old from the Marchioness d'Arlange had given him, unconsciously, a slight grudge against the aristocracy.
He had vaguely thought of certain rather severe remarks, which were to overcome the old nobleman, and bring him to a sense of his position.
But when he found himself in the presence of such a sincere repentance, his indignation changed to profound pity; and he began to wonder how he could assuage the count's grief.
"Write, sir," continued M.de Commarin with an exaltation of which he did not seem capable ten minutes before,--"write my avowal and suppress nothing.

I have no longer need of mercy nor of tenderness.

What have I to fear now?
Is not my disgrace public?
Must not I, Count Rheteau de Commarin appear before the tribunal, to proclaim the infamy of our house?
Ah! all is lost now, even honour itself.

Write, sir; for I wish that all the world shall know that I am the most deserving of blame.

But they shall also know that the punishment has been already terrible, and that there was no need for this last and awful trial." The count stopped for a moment, to concentrate and arrange his memory.
He soon continued, in a firmer voice, and adapting his tone to what he had to say, "When I was of Albert's age, sir, my parents made me marry, in spite of my protestations, the noblest and purest of young girls.