had forgotten," he said, and then told his master of the attack made on
him in the Black Forest.

"That is very strange," said the Marquis, thoughtfully.

"At all events, I wounded him," Pierre replied.

At this moment there was a sound just outside the door. The Marquis
threw it open quickly, but there was nothing to be seen.

"I was sure I heard--"

"This old, worm-eaten wood makes strange noises when the dampness gets
into it," said Pierre.

The Marquis read the papers carefully which Pierre now gave him.

"But there were two children at the time?" he said to Pierre. "Where is
the certificate of the birth of Jacques?"

Pierre hesitated. "When Simon and Francoise were married," he answered,
reluctantly, "Jacques was already born."

"And now," said the Marquis, "I must make some change in my will. My
poor boy, in these papers, does not give his real name, nor the place of
his birth, but we will soon remedy that."

"But why do you talk of your will! You must see your son, master, and
then you can make all things right."

"I have grown very old lately, and have little strength left, but I hope
to embrace my son Simon before I die; but I am in the hands of God. I
wish to incorporate these papers in my will and then there will be no
difficulty in proving Simon's relationship."

"But what do you fear?" asked Pierre.

The Marquis looked at him.

"Why this question? You know as well as I."

"Do you think that the Vicomte would have the audacity--"

The Marquis laid his hand on his servant's breast.

"There is no peasant," he said, slowly and emphatically, "no peasant in
these parts who is capable of such a crime."

Pierre bowed his head; he understood.

"And this is not all," continued his master, "a will may be lost, may be
stolen. I wish to provide for everything, and wish that Simon and his
children shall be rich."

The Marquis went on speaking in so low a voice that no one but the
servant could possibly hear.

CHAPTER VI.

FRATERNAL THOUGHTS.

When the Marquise, her daughter-in-law, and grandson left the salon, a
servant attached especially to the service of the Vicomte approached.

"Madame la Vicomtesse," said Cyprien, "my master wishes to see you; he
is in his chamber."

"Go, my child," interposed the Marquise, "but leave the boy with me, for
I hate to be alone in these rooms which are drearier than a cloister."

The Vicomtesse de Talizac was of Austrian origin, and concealed und