es of men among his brother officers, but never anything
quite so forbidding as this. He did not give his sister a thought of
pity; it was not in him; but he had a moment of sympathy with his
father, of surprise at his mother. However, he was not the man to be
conquered by prejudice. If the affair was disagreeable, all the more
reason to push it through quickly, to reach any advantages it might
bring. His smooth young brow had a new line across it; that was all.

"You talk of the Prefect's 'beloved Chouans,' Monsieur le General," he
said. "It seems to me that in any case he is not fit for his position.
It sounds like treason, what you say."

"Ah! that is another question," said Ratoneau. "That need not concern us
just now, you and me. He must do what we want, first of all; later on we
shall see. Remember, Monsieur le Vicomte, any active measures against
the Chouans would touch your family--your connections, at least. Very
complicated, the state of society in this province. I wish for nothing
better than to sweep out all these tiresome people, but it behoves me to
move gently."

Georges could not help smiling. "That must be against your principles
and your inclinations, Monsieur le General."

"It is against my interests," Ratoneau said, drily enough.
"Inclinations--well, yes. I should be sorry to annoy Monsieur Urbain de
la Mariniere, who is on my side in these affairs. He is a sensible man.
His brother's right place is in a state prison. As to that son of
his--well, he wants a sharp lesson, and one of these days he will have
it. He is an impudent young scoundrel, that little La Mariniere."

Ratoneau lifted his dark eyes and looked straight at Georges, who
flushed under his gaze.

"But perhaps you think better of your cousin?" the General said.

"No--I dislike him. He is a presumptuous fellow."

"Presumptuous in what way?"

Georges shrugged his shoulders. There were limits to the complaisance he
found due to this future relation; the family secrets, the family
confidences, though they might indirectly concern him, should at least
be kept from him for the present. Georges knew all his sister's story,
as far as her mother knew it. The story was safe, though out of no
kindness to Helene.

"He thinks too much of himself," said Georges, and laughed rather
awkwardly. "He orders his betters about as if he were the chief
landowner of the country, instead of a farmer's son. This happened to me
the other night, Monsieu