h from her former suspicions, besides her husband showed
her so much affection that she was now quite happy.

When the first few days were over, Martin began to look into his affairs.
His property had suffered by his long absence, and he was obliged to go
to Biscay to claim his little estate there, the law having already laid
hands upon it. It was several months before, by dint of making judicious
sacrifices, he could regain possession of the house and fields which had
belonged to his father. This at last accomplished, he returned to
Artigues, in order to resume the management of his wife's property, and
with this end in view, about eleven months after his return, he paid a
visit to his uncle Pierre.

Pierre was expecting him; he was extremely polite, desired Martin, to sit
down, overwhelmed him with compliments, knitting his brows as he
discovered that his nephew decidedly meant business. Martin broke
silence.

"Uncle," he said, "I come to thank you for the care you have taken of my
wife's property; she could never have managed it alone. You have
received the income in the family interest: as a good guardian, I
expected no less from your affection. But now that I have returned, and
am free from other cares, we will go over the accounts, if you please."

His uncle coughed and cleared his voice before replying, then said
slowly, as if counting his words--

"It is all accounted for, my dear nephew; Heaven be praised! I don't owe
you anything."

"What!" exclaimed the astonished Martin, "but the whole income?"

"Was well and properly employed in the maintenance of your wife and
child."

"What! a thousand livres for that? And Bertrande lived alone, so
quietly and simply! Nonsense! it is impossible."

"Any surplus," resumed the old man, quite unmoved,--"any surplus went to
pay the expenses of seed-time and harvest."

"What! at a time when labour costs next to nothing?"

"Here is the account," said Pierre.

"Then the account is a false one," returned his nephew.

Pierre thought it advisable to appear extremely offended and angry, and
Martin, exasperated at his evident dishonesty, took still higher ground,
and threatened to bring an action against him. Pierre ordered him to
leave the house, and suiting actions to words, took hold of his arm to
enforce his departure. Martin, furious, turned and raised his fist to
strike.

"What! strike your uncle, wretched boy!" exclaimed the old man.

Martin's hand