nworthy of him. He
determined to know what had passed--to know the details.

He rang, and told the servant that he wished to speak to his father. M.
d'Escorval promptly made his appearance.

"Well?" cried Maurice.

M. d'Escorval felt that denial was useless.

"Lacheneur is deaf to my remonstrances and to my entreaties," he
replied, sadly. "Nothing remains for you but to submit, my son. I
shall not tell you that time will assuage the sorrow that now seems
insupportable--you would not believe me. But I do say to you, that you
are a man, and that you must prove your courage. I say even more:
fight against thoughts of Marie-Anne as a traveller on the verge of a
precipice fights against the thought of vertigo."

"Have you seen Marie-Anne, father? Have you spoken to her?"

"I found her even more inflexible than Lacheneur."

"They reject me, and they receive Chanlouineau, perhaps."

"Chanlouineau is living there."

"My God! And Martial de Sairmeuse?"

"He is their familiar guest. I saw him there." That each of these
responses fell upon Maurice like a thunder-bolt was only too evident.

But M. d'Escorval had armed himself with the impassable courage of
a surgeon who does not relax his hold on his instruments because the
patient groans and writhes in agony.

M. d'Escorval wished to extinguish the last ray of hope in the heart of
his son.

"It is evident that Monsieur Lacheneur has lost his reason!" exclaimed
Maurice.

The baron shook his head despondently. "I thought so myself, at first,"
he murmured.

"But what does he say in justification of his conduct? He must say
something."

"Nothing; _he_ refuses any explanation."

"And you, father, with all your knowledge of human nature, with all your
wide experience, have not been able to fathom his intentions?"

"I have my suspicions," M. d'Escorval replied; "but only suspicions.
It is possible that Lacheneur, listening to the voice of hatred, is
dreaming of a terrible revenge. Who knows if he does not think of
organizing some conspiracy, of which he is to be the leader? These
suppositions would explain everything. Chanlouineau is his aider and
abettor; and he pretends to be reconciled to the Marquis de Sairmeuse in
order to get information through him----"

The blood had returned to the pale cheeks of Maurice.

"Such a conspiracy would not explain Monsieur Lacheneur's obstinate
rejection of my suit."

"Alas! yes, my poor boy. It is through Marie-Anne that