barn destroyed by incendiary fire in night. Your mother
saved, but seriously injured. M. Abel says insurance policy had
lapsed. Come at once.

ERNESTINE.

"_Quel malheur! Quel malheur!_" exclaimed the old man. "My poor M. Paul!
Forgive me! I'm a stupid fool," and he grasped his companion's hand in
quick sympathy.

"It's all right, you didn't understand," said the other gently.

"And you--you think it's _his_ doing?"

"Of course. He must have given the order in that cipher dispatch to Dubois.
Dubois is a secret agent of the government. He communicated with the Prime
Minister, but the Prime Minister was away inaugurating a statue; he didn't
return until after midnight. That is why the man wasn't set at liberty
sooner. No wonder he kept looking at the clock."

"And Dubois telegraphed to have this hellish thing done?"

"Yes, yes, they had warned me, they had killed my dog, and--and now they
have struck at my mother." He bent down his head on his hands. "She's all
I've got, Tignol, she's seventy years old and--infirm and--no, no, I quit,
I'm through."

In his distress and perplexity the old man could think of nothing to say;
he simply tugged at his fierce mustache and swore hair-raising oaths under
his breath.

"And the insurance?" he asked presently. "What does that mean?"

"I sent the renewal money to this lawyer Abel," answered Coquenil in a dull
tone. "They have used him against me to--to take my savings. I had put
about all that I had into this home for my mother. You see they want to
break my heart and--they've just about done it."

He was silent a moment, then glanced quickly at his watch. "Come, we have
no time to lose. My train leaves in an hour. I have important things to
explain--messages for Pougeot and the girl--I'll tell you in the carriage."

Five minutes later they were speeding swiftly in an automobile toward the
Eastern railway station.

* * * * *

There followed three days of pitiful anxiety for Coquenil. His mother's
health was feeble at the best, and the shock of this catastrophe, the
sudden awakening in the night to find flames roaring about her, the
difficult rescue, and the destruction of her peaceful home, all this was
very serious for the old lady; indeed, there were twenty-four hours during
which the village doctor could offer small comfort to the distracted son.

Madam Coquenil, however, never wavered in her sweet faith that all was
well. S