r le General."

He went on to describe his adventure in the steep lane, and how Angelot
had ordered his men to back the horses. The General listened with some
impatience.

"Sapristi! he is a hero of the lanes, this Angelot. I have had my
experience, too," but he did not describe it. "He will make himself
plenty of enemies, that cousin of yours. However, let him swagger as he
likes among horses and cows, till he finds himself between four walls
with his friends the Chouans. I should like to be assured that his airs
will carry him no further. To speak plainly, Monsieur le Vicomte, when I
saw them together at Lancilly, I fancied that he and mademoiselle your
sister--I see by your face that I was right!"

The General started up with an oath. Georges faced him, cool and
dignified.

"My sister is safe in my mother's care, Monsieur le General. Do not
disturb yourself."

"But do you know, monsieur, that the servants thought the same as I
did?"

"What can that signify to you or to me, monsieur?"

Ratoneau flung himself back into his chair with an angry laugh. The
proud disgust of the young captain's tone had a certain effect upon him;
yet he was not altogether reassured.

"Will you tell me on your honour," he growled, "that you know nothing of
any love affair between that young cub and your sister? I swear, sir, I
distrust you all. It is your mother's interest to marry her to me,
but--"

"The imperial order has not yet been sent down," said Georges, his blue
eyes flashing like steel.

He would have said more; he did not know what he might have said, for at
that moment his sympathy with his father was growing by leaps and
bounds, and his mother's plan began to seem incomprehensible. However,
to do her justice, she had never seen General Ratoneau as he saw him.

"What do you mean by that?" said Ratoneau, sharply, and Georges found
himself already repenting.

For the thing had to be carried through, and he knew it.

Further argument was stopped, at that moment, by a gentle tap at the
door.

"Come in!" roared the General. "What the devil have you got there,
Simon?"

The police agent stepped lightly across the room. He laid a folded paper
on the table, and drew out from between its pages an unsealed letter. He
spread this out with the signature uppermost, "_De Mauves, Prefet du
Loir._"

Georges de Sainfoy, a silent looker-on, stood by the chimneypiece while
General Ratoneau eagerly seized the papers. He first r