owed by Madame Ursula, who was choking with
rage, emerged upon the Square, all the peasants lifted their hats.

"There is the carriage!" said Ursula.

A lacquey in livery approached, leading a fine English horse. Irene
arrested the animal.

"Do you intend to mount again? I thought," said Madame Ursula, "that you
had promised to return in the carriage with me."

But Irene was already in her saddle.

The governess continued:

"The Comtesse expected--"

"Never mind that! And now, John, to the Chateau at once," said Irene,
galloping off.

"Who is that lady?" asked Bobichel.

"Mademoiselle de Salves," a peasant replied, "the wealthiest heiress in
the neighborhood."

"A handsome girl!" muttered Bobichel.

"She is too haughty to those beneath her," said some one.

"She is made of Paris stuff," said another. "She's not calculated for
our village."

A new incident now occurred.

A post-chaise, drawn by vigorous horses, now dashed into the Square,
and drew up before Master Schwann's inn.

Before the worthy innkeeper could come down the steps to welcome the new
arrival, another person had dashed past him. This was the man, who,
sheltered by his newspaper, had so closely watched all that was going on
around him.

"Monsieur le Marquis," he said, presenting his arm to the gentleman in
the post-chaise, "I see my letter reached you in time."

The new arrival is not unknown to our readers; it was he who, earlier in
our tale, was known as the Vicomte de Talizac, and who to-day, by the
death of the old Marquis, had been invested with all the titles of the
Fongereues family.

Ten years had elapsed since we last saw him, and though hardly forty, he
seems an old man--his figure is bent and his stern face covered with
wrinkles.

The man who was waiting for him had long been his accomplice; together
they had concocted the criminal plan to which Simon fell a victim, and
as a reward for his villainy, Cyprien had been made intendant instead of
valet.

The Marquis entered the inn and looked around suspiciously, but saw no
one but Schwann, who stood hat in hand; he did not advance, as the frown
of the Marquis was far from encouraging.

"Serve dinner in my room," said Cyprien, and he showed the silent
Marquis up-stairs.

When Schwann had laid the table and placed the dinner upon it, Cyprien
took him aside.

"You need not come up again, unless I call you."

"Very good, sir."

"And this is not all; please do not gos