too many remonstrances. Answer me in a word! Only understand this:
if you reject me, I will return to my father's house, and with this gun
which I hold in my hand I will blow out my brains."

This was no idle threat. It was evident that what he said, that would he
do. His listeners were so convinced of this, that Marie-Anne turned to
her father with clasped hands and a look of entreaty.

"You are one of us, then," said M. Lacheneur, sternly; "but do not
forget that you forced me to consent by threats; and whatever may happen
to you or yours, remember that you would have it so."

But these gloomy words produced no impression upon Maurice; he was wild
with joy.

"Now," continued M. Lacheneur, "I must tell you my hopes, and acquaint
you with the cause for which I am laboring----"

"What does that matter to me?" Maurice exclaimed, gayly; and, springing
toward Marie-Anne, he seized her hand and raised it to his lips, crying,
with the joyous laugh of youth:

"My cause--here it is!"

Lacheneur turned away. Perhaps he recollected that a sacrifice of his
pride was all that was necessary to assure the happiness of these poor
children.

But if a feeling of remorse entered his mind, he drove it away, and with
increased sternness, he said:

"Still, Monsieur d'Escorval, it is necessary for you to understand our
agreement."

"Make known your conditions, sir."

"First, your visits here--after certain rumors that I have put in
circulation--would arouse suspicion. You must come here only at night,
and then only at hours that have been agreed upon in advance--never when
you are not expected."

The attitude of Maurice expressed his entire consent.

"Moreover, you must find some way to cross the river without having
recourse to the ferryman, who is a dangerous fellow."

"We have an old skiff. I will persuade my father to have it repaired."

"Very well. Will you also promise me to avoid the Marquis de Sairmeuse?"

"I will."

"Wait a moment; we must be prepared for any emergency. It may be
that, in spite of our precautions, you will meet him here. Monsieur de
Sairmeuse is arrogance itself; and he hates you. You detest him, and you
are very hasty. Swear to me that if he provokes you, you will ignore his
insults."

"But I should be considered a coward, Monsieur!"

"Probably. Will you swear?"

Maurice hesitated, but an imploring look from Marie-Anne decided him.

"I swear!" he said, gravely.

"As far as Chanlouineau