s secret--was in Paris.

Only the widow and the second son remained in Sairmeuse.

They had not, as yet, succeeded in discovering the twenty thousand
francs, but the fever for gold was burning in their veins, and they
persisted in their search. From morning until night the mother and son
toiled on, until the earth around their hut had been explored to the
depth of six feet.

A word dropped by a peasant one day put an end to these researches.

"Really, my boy," he said, addressing young Chupin, "I did not suppose
you were such a fool as to persist in hunting birds' nests after the
birds have flown. Your brother, who is in Paris, can undoubtedly tell
you where the treasure was concealed."

The younger Chupin uttered the fierce roar of a wild beast.

"Holy Virgin! you are right!" he exclaimed. "Wait until I get money
enough to take me to Paris, and we will see."

CHAPTER L

Martial de Sairmeuse's unexpected visit to the Chateau de Courtornieu
had alarmed Aunt Medea even more than Blanche.

In ten seconds, more ideas passed through her brain than had visited it
for ten years.

She saw the gendarmes at the chateau; she saw her niece arrested,
incarcerated in the Montaignac prison, and brought before the Court of
Assizes.

If this were all she had to fear! But suppose she, too, were
compromised, suspected of complicity, dragged before the judge, and even
accused of being the sole culprit!

Finding the suspense intolerable, she left her room; and, stealing on
tiptoe to the great drawing-room, she applied her ear to the door of the
little blue salon, in which Blanche and Martial were seated.

The conversation which she heard convinced her that her fears were
groundless.

She drew a long breath, as if a mighty burden had been lifted from her
breast. But a new idea, which was to grow, flourish, and bear fruit, had
just taken root in her brain.

When Martial left the room, Aunt Medea at once opened the communicating
door and entered the blue salon, thus avowing that she had been a
listener.

Twenty-four hours earlier she would not have dreamed of committing such
an enormity.

"Well, Blanche, we were frightened at nothing," she exclaimed.

Blanche did not reply.

She was deliberating, forcing herself to weigh the probable consequences
of all these events which had succeeded each other with such marvellous
rapidity.

"Perhaps the hour of my revenge is almost here," murmured Blanche, as if
communing wi