, and get nothing from me. She hasn't a sou; let her
do as we did,--work."

Vinet departed, having put his plan into Sylvie's head, her dogged
obstinacy being well-known to him. The old maid, he was certain, would
think the scheme her own, and carry it out.

The lawyer found the colonel in the square, smoking a cigar while he
waited for him.

"Halt!" said Gouraud; "you have pulled me down, but stones enough came
with me to bury you--"

"Colonel!--"

"Colonel or not, I shall give you your deserts. In the first place, you
shall not be deputy--"

"Colonel!--"

"I control ten votes and the election depends on--"

"Colonel, listen to me. Is there no one to marry but that old Sylvie?
I have just been defending you to her; you are accused and convicted of
writing to Pierrette; she saw you leave your house at midnight and come
to the girl's window--"

"Stuff and nonsense!"

"She means to marry her brother to Bathilde and leave her fortune to
their children."

"Rogron won't have any."

"Yes he will," replied Vinet. "But I promise to find you some young and
agreeable woman with a hundred and fifty thousand francs? Don't be a
fool; how can you and I afford to quarrel? Things have gone against you
in spite of all my care; but you don't understand me."

"Then we must understand each other," said the colonel. "Get me a
wife with a hundred and fifty thousand francs before the elections; if
not--look out for yourself! I don't like unpleasant bed-fellows, and
you've pulled the blankets all over to your side. Good-evening."

"You shall see," said Vinet, grasping the colonel's hand affectionately.

* * * * *

About one o'clock that night three clear, sharp cries of an owl,
wonderfully well imitated, echoed through the square. Pierrette heard
them in her feverish sleep; she jumped up, moist with perspiration,
opened her window, saw Brigaut, and flung down a ball of silk, to which
he fastened a letter. Sylvie, agitated by the events of the day and her
own indecision of mind, was not asleep; she heard the owl.

"Ah, bird of ill-omen!" she thought. "Why, Pierrette is getting up! What
is she after?"

Hearing the attic window open softly, Sylvie rushed to her own window
and heard the rustle of paper against her blinds. She fastened the
strings of her bed-gown and went quickly upstairs to Pierrette's room,
where she found the poor girl unwinding the silk and freeing the letter.

"Ha! I've c