ed him up the portico, and, with an arm that fury made
powerful, he flung him, bellowing, and rigid as a pole, into the salon,
at the very feet of the count, who, having completed the purchase of Les
Moulineaux, was about to leave the salon for the dining-room with his
guests.

"On your knees, wretched boy! and ask pardon of him who gave food to
your mind by obtaining your scholarship."

Oscar, his face to the ground, was foaming with rage, and did not say a
word. The spectators of the scene were shocked. Moreau seemed no longer
in his senses; his face was crimson with injected blood.

"This young man is a mere lump of vanity," said the count, after waiting
a moment for Oscar's excuses. "A proud man humiliates himself because he
sees there is grandeur in a certain self-abasement. I am afraid that you
will never make much of that lad."

So saying, his Excellency passed on. Moreau took Oscar home with him;
and on the way gave orders that the horses should immediately be put to
Madame Moreau's caleche.

CHAPTER VII. A MOTHER'S TRIALS

While the horses were being harnessed, Moreau wrote the following letter
to Madame Clapart:--

My dear,--Oscar has ruined me. During his journey in Pierrotin's
coach, he spoke of Madame de Serizy's behavior to his Excellency,
who was travelling incognito, and actually told, to himself, the
secret of his terrible malady. After dismissing me from my
stewardship, the count told me not to let Oscar sleep at Presles,
but to send him away immediately. Therefore, to obey his orders,
the horses are being harnessed at this moment to my wife's
carriage, and Brochon, my stable-man, will take the miserable
child to you to-night.

We are, my wife and I, in a distress of mind which you may perhaps
imagine, though I cannot describe it to you. I will see you in a
few days, for I must take another course. I have three children,
and I ought to consider their future. At present I do not know
what to do; but I shall certainly endeavor to make the count aware
of what seventeen years of the life of a man like myself is worth.
Owning at the present moment about two hundred and fifty thousand
francs, I want to raise myself to a fortune which may some day
make me the equal of his Excellency. At this moment I feel within
me the power to move mountains and vanquish insurmountable
difficulties. What a lever is such a scene of bitter humiliation
as I have just