face.

"Let us keep silence with regard to all this," he said.

"Yes, commandant. You are not drinking?"

"I am not thirsty," Genestas answered. "I am a perfect fool!"

"Well, when will you bring him to me?"

"Why, to-morrow, if you will let me. He has been at Grenoble these two
days."

"Good! Set out to-morrow morning and come back again. I shall wait for
you in La Fosseuse's cottage, and we will all four of us breakfast there
together."

"Agreed," said Genestas, and the two friends as they went upstairs bade
each other good-night. When they reached the landing that lay between
their rooms, Genestas set down his candle on the window ledge and turned
towards Benassis.

"_Tonnerre de Dieu!_" he said, with outspoken enthusiasm; "I cannot let
you go without telling you that you are the third among christened men
to make me understand that there is Something up there," and he pointed
to the sky.

The doctor's answer was a smile full of sadness and a cordial grasp of
the hand that Genestas held out to him.

Before daybreak next morning Commandant Genestas was on his way. On his
return, it was noon before he reached the spot on the highroad between
Grenoble and the little town, where the pathway turned that led to La
Fosseuse's cottage. He was seated in one of the light open cars with
four wheels, drawn by one horse, that are in use everywhere on the
roads in these hilly districts. Genestas' companion was a thin,
delicate-looking lad, apparently about twelve years of age, though in
reality he was in his sixteenth year. Before alighting, the officer
looked round about him in several directions in search of a peasant who
would take the carriage back to Benassis' house. It was impossible
to drive to La Fosseuse's cottage, the pathway was too narrow. The
park-keeper happened to appear upon the scene, and helped Genestas
out of his difficulty, so that the officer and his adopted son were at
liberty to follow the mountain footpath that led to the trysting-place.

"Would you not enjoy spending a year in running about in this lovely
country, Adrien? Learning to hunt and to ride a horse, instead of
growing pale over your books? Stay! look there!"

Adrien obediently glanced over the valley with languid indifference;
like all lads of his age, he cared nothing for the beauty of natural
scenery; so he only said, "You are very kind, father," without checking
his walk.

The invalid listlessness of this answer went to