"Where can we hope to find so good a match again ?" "You need not be afraid," returned the Count, with a sneer; "you shall have another son-in-law." These words sent a pang through the heart of the Countess.

Was it an allusion to the past?
or had the phrase dropped from her husband's lips accidentally?
or had he any suspicion of the influence that had been brought to bear upon her?
She, however, had plenty of courage, and would rather meet misfortune fact to face than await its coming in dread.
"Of what other son-in-law are you speaking ?" asked she negligently.

"Has any other suitor presented himself?
May I ask his name?
Do you intend to settle my child's future without consulting me ?" "I do, madame." A contemptuous smile crossed the face of the Countess, which goaded the Count to fury.
"Am I not the master here ?" exclaimed he in accents of intense rage.
"Am I not driven to the exercise of my power by the menaces of a pack of villains who have wormed out the hidden secrets which have overshadowed my life from my youth upward?
They can, if they desire, drag my name through the mire of infamy." Madame de Mussidan bounded to her feet, asking herself whether her husband's intellect had not given way.
"You commit a crime!" gasped she.
"I, madame, I myself! Does that surprise you?
Have you never had any suspicion?
Perhaps you have not forgotten a fatal accident which took place out shooting, and darkened the earlier years of our married life?
Well, the thing was not an accident, but a deliberate murder committed by me.

Yes, I murdered him, and this fact is known, and can be proved." The Countess grew deadly pale, and extended her hand, as though to guard herself from some coming danger.
"You are horrified, are you ?" continued the Count, with a sneer.
"Perhaps I inspire you with horror; but do not fear; the blood is no longer on my hands, but it is here, and is choking me." And as he spoke he pressed his fingers upon his heart.

"For twenty-three years I have endured this hideous recollection and even now when I wake in the night I am bathed in cold sweat, for I fancy I can hear the last gasps of the unhappy man." "This is horrible, too horrible!" murmured Madame de Mussidan faintly.
"Ah, but you do not know why I killed him,--it was because the dead man had dared to tell me that the wife I adored with all the passion of my soul was unfaithful to me." Words of eager denial rose to the lips of the Countess; but her husband went on coldly, "And it was all true, for I heard all later on.
"Poor Montlouis! _he_ was really loved.