betray or
misunderstand him.

"And did you tell Mademoiselle Helene all this? Did you ask her what she
thought of you?" Monsieur Joseph said at last.

"She knows enough, and so do I," said Angelot.

It seemed like sacrilege to say more; but as his uncle waited, he added
hastily--"She is sad, and I can make her happy. But I cannot live
without her--voila! Now will you help me?"

"It does not occur to you, then, that you are astonishingly
presumptuous?"

"No."

"Diable, my Angelot! It would occur to my cousins De Sainfoy!"

"We are not so poor. As to family, we have not a title, it is true, but
we are their cousins--and look at my mother's descent! They can show
nothing like it. And then see what they owe to my father. Without him,
what would have become of Lancilly? They can make imperialist marriages
for their two other daughters. You must help me, dear little uncle!"

"Do you suppose they would listen to me, an old Chouan? Where are your
wits, my poor boy? All flown in pursuit of Mademoiselle Helene!"

"Not they, no; they are too stupid to appreciate you. But speak to my
father and mother for me. They love and honour you; they will listen.
Tell them all for me; ask them to arrange it all. I will do anything
they wish, live anywhere. Only let them give me Helene."

Monsieur Joseph whistled, and took another large pinch of snuff. It was
almost too dark now to see each other's face, and the heavy clouds, with
a distant rolling of thunder, hung low over Les Chouettes.

Suddenly a child's voice from a window above broke the silence.

"Ah, forgive me, papa and Angelot, but I have heard all, every word you
have been saying. It was so interesting, I could not shut the window and
go to sleep. Well, little papa, what do you say to Angelot? Tell him you
will help him, we will both help him, to the last drop of our blood."

Angelot sprang from his seat with an exclamation, to look up at the
window. A small, white-clad figure stood there, a round dark head
against the dim light of the room. The voice had something pathetic as
well as comical.

"Mille tonnerres!" shouted Monsieur Joseph, very angry. "Go to bed this
instant, little imp, or I shall come upstairs with a birch rod. You will
gain nothing by your dishonourable listening. I shall send you to
Mademoiselle Moineau to-morrow, to learn lessons all day long."

"Ah, papa, if you do, I can talk to Helene about Angelot," said
Henriette, and she hastily shut the