greatly through the attentions of the marquis."

"Oh! sir, I entreat you."

"But one should not hesitate, my child, when duty speaks. You owe this
sacrifice to an innocent man who has been ruined through your father."

He explained to her all that she must say, and did not leave her until
she had promised to see the marquis in person. But the cause of her
repugnance was not what the abbe supposed. Her reputation! Alas! she
knew that was lost forever. No, it was not that.

A fortnight before she would not have been disquieted by the prospect
of this interview. Then, though she no longer hated Martial, he was
perfectly indifferent to her, while now----

Perhaps in choosing the Croix d'Arcy for the place of meeting, she hoped
that this spot, haunted by so many cruel memories, would restore her
former aversion.

On pursuing the path leading to the place of rendezvous, she said to
herself that Martial would undoubtedly wound her by the tone of careless
gallantry which was habitual to him.

But in this she was mistaken. Martial was greatly agitated, but he did
not utter a word that was not connected with the baron.

It was only when the conference was ended, and he had consented to all
the conditions, that he said, sadly:

"We are friends, are we not?"

In an almost inaudible voice she answered:

"Yes."

And that was all. He remounted his horse which had been held by a
servant, and departed in the direction of Montaignac.

Breathless, with cheeks on fire, Marie-Anne watched him as he
disappeared; and then her inmost heart was revealed as by a lightning
flash.

"_Mon Dieu_! wretch that I _am_!" she exclaimed. "Do I not love? is it
possible that I could ever love any other than Maurice, my husband, the
father of my child?"

Her voice was still trembling with emotion when she recounted the
details of the interview to the abbe. But he did not perceive it. He was
thinking only of the baron.

"I was sure that Martial would agree to everything; I was so certain
of it that I have made all the arrangements for the baron to leave the
farm. He will await, at your house, a safe-conduct from His Majesty.

"The close air and the heat of the loft are retarding the baron's
recovery," the abbe pursued, "so be prepared for his coming to-morrow
evening. One of the Poignot boys will bring over all our baggage. About
eleven o'clock we will put Monsieur d'Escorval in a carriage; and we
will all sup together at the Borderie."