er saw the countess again, and there is the whole
story."

By this time they had reached Benassis' house; the doctor mounted
his horse at once and disappeared. Genestas recommended his son to
Jacquotte's care, so the doctor on his return found that she had taken
Adrien completely under her wing, and had installed him in M. Gravier's
celebrated room. With no small astonishment, she heard her master's
order to put up a simple camp-bed in his own room, for that the lad was
to sleep there, and this in such an authoritative tone, that for once in
her life Jacquotte found not a single word to say.

After dinner the commandant went back to Grenoble. Benassis' reiterated
assurances that the lad would soon be restored to health had taken a
weight off his mind.

Eight months later, in the earliest days of the following December,
Genestas was appointed to be lieutenant-colonel of a regiment stationed
at Poitiers. He was just thinking of writing to Benassis to tell him of
the journey he was about to take, when a letter came from the doctor.
His friend told him that Adrien was once more in sound health.

"The boy has grown strong and tall," he said; "and he is wonderfully
well. He has profited by Butifer's instruction since you saw him last,
and is now as good a shot as our smuggler himself. He has grown brisk
and active too; he is a good walker, and rides well; he is not in the
least like the lad of sixteen who looked like a boy of twelve eight
months ago; any one might think that he was twenty years old. There is
an air of self-reliance and independence about him. In fact he is a man
now, and you must begin to think about his future at once."

"I shall go over to Benassis to-morrow, of course," said Genestas to
himself, "and I will see what he says before I make up my mind what to
do with that fellow," and with that he went to a farewell dinner given
to him by his brother officers. He would be leaving Grenoble now in a
very few days.

As the lieutenant-colonel returned after the dinner, his servant handed
him a letter. It had been brought by a messenger, he said, who had
waited a long while for an answer.

Genestas recognized Adrien's handwriting, although his head was swimming
after the toasts that had been drunk in his honor; probably, he thought,
the letter merely contained a request to gratify some boyish whim, so
he left it unopened on the table. The next morning, when the fumes of
champagne had passed off, he too