Receiving no reply he shook the door so violently that the old lock gave way, and the young man almost fell over Madeleine, who was standing in the antechamber in her petticoat, her hair loosened, her feet bare, and a candle in her hand.
He exclaimed: "It is she. We have caught them," and he rushed into the room. The commissioner turned to Madeleine, who had followed them through the rooms, in one of which were the remnants of a supper, and looking into her eyes said:
"You are Mme. Claire Madeleine du Roy, lawful wife of M. Prosper Georges du Roy, here present?"
She replied: "Yes, sir."
"What are you doing here?"
She made no reply. The officer repeated his question; still she did not reply. He waited several moments and then said: "If you do not confess, Madame, I shall be forced to inquire into the matter."
They could see a man's form concealed beneath the covers of the bed. Du Roy advanced softly and uncovered the livid face of M. Laroche- Mathieu.
The officer again asked: "Who are you?"
As the man did not reply, he continued: "I am the police commissioner and I call upon you to tell me your name. If you do not answer, I shall be forced to arrest you. In any case, rise. I will interrogate you when you are dressed."
In the meantime Madeleine had regained her composure, and seeing that all was lost, she was determined to put a brave face upon the matter. Her eyes sparkled with the audacity of bravado, and taking a piece of paper she lighted the ten candles in the candelabra as if for a reception. That done, she leaned against the mantelpiece, took a cigarette out of a case, and began to smoke, seeming not to see her husband.
In the meantime the man in the bed had dressed himself and advanced. The officer turned to him: "Now, sir, will you tell me who you are?"
He made no reply.
"I see I shall have to arrest you."
Then the man cried: "Do not touch me. I am inviolable."
Du Roy rushed toward him exclaiming: "I can have you arrested if I want to!" Then he added: "This man's name is Laroche-Mathieu, minister of foreign affairs."
The officer retreated and stammered: "Sir, will you tell me who you are?"
"For once that miserable fellow has not lied. I am indeed Laroche- Mathieu, minister," and pointing to Georges' breast, he added, "and that scoundrel wears upon his coat the cross of honor which I gave him."
Du Roy turned pale. With a rapid gesture he tore the decoration from his buttonhole and throwing it in the fire exclaimed: "That is what a decoration is worth which is given by a scoundrel of your order."
The commissioner stepped between them, as they stood face to face, saying: "Gentlemen, you forget yourselves and your dignity."
Madeleine smoked on calmly, a smile hovering about her lips. The officer continued: "Sir, I have surprised you alone with Mme. du Roy under suspicious circumstances; what have you to say?"
"Nothing; do your duty."
The commissioner turned to Madeleine: "Do you confess, Madame, that this gentleman is your lover?"
She replied boldly: "I do not deny it. That is sufficient."
The magistrate made several notes; when he had finished writing, the minister, who stood ready, coat upon arm, hat in hand, asked: "Do you need me any longer, sir? Can I go?"
Du Roy addressed him with an insolent smile: "Why should you go, we have finished; we will leave you alone together." Then, taking the officer's arm, he said: "Let us go, sir; we have nothing more to do in this place."
An hour later Georges du Roy entered the office of "La Vie Francaise." M. Walter was there; he raised his head and asked: "What, are you here? Why are you not dining at my house? Where have you come from?"
Georges replied with emphasis: "I have just found out something about the minister of foreign affairs."
"What?"
"I found him alone with my wife in hired apartments. The commissioner of police was my witness. The minister is ruined."
"Are you not jesting?"
"No, I am not. I shall even write an article on it."
"What is your object?"
"To overthrow that wretch, that public malefactor."
Georges placed his hat upon a chair and added: "Woe to those whom I find in my path. I never pardon."
The manager stammered: "But your wife?"
"I shall apply for a divorce at once."
"A divorce?"
"Yes, I am master of the situation. I shall be free. I have a stated income. I shall offer myself as a candidate in October in my native district, where I am known. I could not win any respect were I to be hampered with a wife whose honor was sullied. She took me for a simpleton, but since I have known her game, I have watched her, and now I shall get on, for I shall be free."
Georges rose.
"I will write the item; it must be handled prudently."
The old man hesitated, then said: "Do so: it serves those right who are caught in such scrapes."
CHAPTER XVII.
THE FINAL PLOT
Three months had elapsed. Georges du Roy's divorce had been obtained. His wife had resumed the name of Forestier.
As the Walters were going to Trouville on the fifteenth of July, they decided to spend a day in the country before starting.
The day chosen was Thursday, and they set out at nine o'clock in the morning in a large six-seated carriage drawn by four horses. They were going to lunch at Saint-Germain. Bel-Ami had requested that he might be the only young man in the party, for he could not bear the presence of the Marquis de Cazolles. At the last moment, however, it was decided that Count de Latour-Ivelin should go, for he and Rose had been betrothed a month. The day was delightful. Georges, who was very pale, gazed at Suzanne as they sat in the carriage and their eyes met.
Mme. Walter was contented and happy. The luncheon was a long and merry one. Before leaving for Paris, Du Roy proposed a walk on the terrace. They stopped on the way to admire the view; as they passed on, Georges and Suzanne lingered behind. The former whispered softly: "Suzanne, I love you madly."
She whispered in return: "I love you too, Bel-Ami."
He continued: "If I cannot have you for my wife, I shall leave the country."
She replied: "Ask papa. Perhaps he will consent."
He answered impatiently: "No, I repeat that it is useless; the door of the house would be closed against me. I would lose my position on the journal, and we would not even meet. Those are the consequences a formal proposal would produce. They have promised you to the Marquis de Cazolles; they hope you will finally say 'yes' and they are waiting."
"What can we do?"
"Have you the courage to brave your father and mother for my sake?"
"Yes."
"Truly?"
"Yes."
"Well! There is only one way. It must come from you and not from me. You are an indulged child; they let you say anything and are not surprised at any audacity on your part. Listen, then! This evening on returning home, go to your mother first, and tell her that you want to marry me. She will be very much agitated and very angry."
Suzanne interrupted him: "Oh, mamma would be glad."
He replied quickly: "No, no, you do not know her. She will be more vexed than your father. But you must insist, you must not yield; you must repeat that you will marry me and me alone. Will you do so?"
"I will."
"And on leaving your mother, repeat the same thing to your father very decidedly."
"Well, and then--"
"And then matters will reach a climax! If you are determined to be my wife, my dear, dear, little Suzanne, I will elope with you."
She clapped her hands, as all the charming adventures in the romances she had read occurred to her, and cried:
"Oh, what bliss! When will you elope with me?"
He whispered very low: "To-night!"