d by Lacheneur----"

"What! is it Lacheneur--"

"Who is at the head of the movement? yes, Marquis. Ah! your usual
discernment has failed you in this instance. What, you have been a
constant visitor at this house, and you have suspected nothing? And you
contemplate a diplomatic career! But this is not all. You know now for
what purpose the money which you so lavishly bestowed upon them has been
employed. They have used it to purchase guns, powder, and ammunition."

The duke had become satisfied of the injustice of his suspicions; but he
was now endeavoring to irritate his son.

It was a fruitless effort. Martial knew very well that he had been
duped, but he did not think of resenting it.

"If Lacheneur has been captured," he thought; "if he should be condemned
to death and if I should save him, Marie-Anne would refuse me nothing."

CHAPTER XXIV

Having penetrated the mystery that enveloped his son's frequent absence,
the Baron d'Escorval had concealed his fears and his chagrin from his
wife.

It was the first time that he had ever had a secret from the faithful
and courageous companion of his existence.

Without warning her, he went to beg Abbe Midon to follow him to the
Reche, to the house of M. Lacheneur.

The silence, on his part, explains Mme. d'Escorval's astonishment when,
on the arrival of the dinner-hour, neither her son nor her husband
appeared.

Maurice was sometimes late; but the baron, like all great workers, was
punctuality itself. What extraordinary thing could have happened?

Her surprise became uneasiness when she learned that her husband had
departed in company with Abbe Midon. They had harnessed the horse
themselves, and instead of driving through the court-yard as usual, they
had driven through the stable-yard into a lane leading to the public
road.

What did all this mean? Why these strange precautions?

Mme. d'Escorval waited, oppressed by vague forebodings.

The servants shared her anxiety. The baron was so equable in temper, so
kind and just to his inferiors, that his servants adored him, and would
have gone through a fiery furnace for him.

So, about ten o'clock, they hastened to lead to their mistress a peasant
who was returning from Sairmeuse.

This man, who was slightly intoxicated, told the strangest and most
incredible stories.

He said that all the peasantry for ten leagues around were under arms,
and that the Baron d'Escorval was the leader of the revolt.

He di