When the young girl, followed by Madame Ursula, who was choking with rage, emerged upon the Square, all the peasants lifted their hats.

"There is the carriage!" said Ursula.

A lacquey in livery approached, leading a fine English horse. IrÈne arrested the animal.

"Do you intend to mount again? I thought," said Madame Ursula, "that you had promised to return in the carriage with me."

But IrÈne was already in her saddle.

The governess continued:

"The Comtesse expected—"

"Never mind that! And now, John, to the ChÂteau at once," said IrÈne, galloping off.

"Who is that lady?" asked Bobichel.

"Mademoiselle de Salves," a peasant replied, "the wealthiest heiress in the neighborhood."

"A handsome girl!" muttered Bobichel.

"She is too haughty to those beneath her," said some one.

"She is made of Paris stuff," said another. "She's not calculated for our village."

A new incident now occurred.

A post-chaise, drawn by vigorous horses, now dashed into the Square, and drew up before Master Schwann's inn.

Before the worthy innkeeper could come down the steps to welcome the new arrival, another person had dashed past him. This was the man, who, sheltered by his newspaper, had so closely watched all that was going on around him.

"Monsieur le Marquis," he said, presenting his arm to the gentleman in the post-chaise, "I see my letter reached you in time."

The new arrival is not unknown to our readers; it was he who, earlier in our tale, was known as the Vicomte de Talizac, and who to-day, by the death of the old Marquis, had been invested with all the titles of the Fongereues family.

Ten years had elapsed since we last saw him, and though hardly forty, he seems an old man—his figure is bent and his stern face covered with wrinkles.

The man who was waiting for him had long been his accomplice; together they had concocted the criminal plan to which Simon fell a victim, and as a reward for his villainy, Cyprien had been made intendant instead of valet.

The Marquis entered the inn and looked around suspiciously, but saw no one but Schwann, who stood hat in hand; he did not advance, as the frown of the Marquis was far from encouraging.

"Serve dinner in my room," said Cyprien, and he showed the silent Marquis up-stairs.

When Schwann had laid the table and placed the dinner upon it, Cyprien took him aside.

"You need not come up again, unless I call you."

"Very good, sir."

"And this is not all; please do not gossip about my master. If any one questions you, make no reply."

"What could I say?" asked Schwann. "I know nothing!"

"You might indulge in suppositions, which I advise you to avoid."

"Zounds!" muttered Schwann, as he descended the stairs, "all these airs displease me! I very much prefer my rope dancers to this great lord!"

Cyprien looked up and down the corridor, and listened at the doors of the next rooms, to ascertain that they were empty.

The Marquis, in the meantime, had thrown his hat and cloak on the bed.

"We are alone?" he asked impatiently.

"Yes, sir."

"Speak, then. Your letter told me that you have found traces of that miserable Labarre."

"Yes, sir, and I trust you will be satisfied with what I have done."

"Did you see the man?"

"No, sir. Your instructions were to avoid all contact with him. I know, however, where to lay my hands on him."

"You have done well. I wish my presence here to be like a thunderclap to him. And then I expect that in his terror he will make the avowal which will be my salvation."

"May I ask, sir, if your affairs have in any way ameliorated since my departure?"

"Ameliorated!" Fongereues repeated with an angry gesture, "no, quite the contrary. Ruin is approaching with rapid strides, and in a few months I shall be lost!"

"But the favor of His Majesty—"

Fongereues laughed bitterly. "His Majesty cares little for me. Ever since I was unfortunate enough to displease his fair friend, the tide has turned."

"But can nothing be done?"

Fongereues shrugged his shoulders. "What is the use? I am sick of manoeuvering and intriguing. I have told the king that his faithful emigrÉs should be his best counsellors, and that it was his duty as well as his interest to rely on me. But it was of no use.

"They think they have paid us," the Marquis continued, "because they have thrown us, as food to the dogs, a few louis of indemnity. As if France were not ours, as if we had no rights over these people who have assassinated their king and kissed the feet of an adventurer; but they are afraid, and talk of patience. I told His Majesty, one day, of my embarrassments. 'Sir,' he said to me, 'a Fongereues never begs!' and the next day I received four thousand louis. Confound the nonsense!"

Cyprien could not refrain from a smile. Four thousand louis did not seem to him a trifle, nor nonsense.

"But His Majesty is interested in your son."

"My son! These Puritans have much to say about my son. He gambles and he does other shocking things. One would think, to hear them talk, that they were themselves paragons of virtue. As soon as the Vicomte marries and settles down—by the way, what about Mademoiselle de Salves?"

"I only arrived last night, and have simply learned that their chÂteau is not more than two leagues away, and that they must soon leave it to return to Paris."

"Four millions!" cried the Marquis. "And to think that this fortune may escape us!"

"The marriage is not yet decided, then?"

"Not precisely; and the smallest incident may ruin my plans. This Labarre must be made to speak, even if violence be necessary."

"He is an incorruptible old fellow, and these honest people are sometimes very hard to deal with."

The Marquis looked at him intently for a minute or two in silence, and then, with an indescribable smile, said:

"I think we can manage him, nevertheless!"

Cyprien smiled.

"You know, beside," continued the Marquis, "that I am not ungrateful. Let this Labarre surrender this secret and my son become the husband of young IrÈne de Salves, and my position becomes stronger than ever. And you may be certain that I shall not forget you!"

"I hope, sir, that it may be soon in my power to render you a most important service."

"What may that be?"

"You are aware, I presume, that I take great interest in the preservation of the present rÉgime?"

"I was not aware of that," the Marquis said, with a slight elevation of the eyebrows. It seemed to him that the opinions of Monsieur Cyprien were of little importance, and that the government was not likely to benefit by his sympathy and protection.

"The fact is, sir, your future and that of the monarchy are too nearly allied for me to separate the two questions."

"You are right."

"And, in addition, I hold relations with persons who condescend to recognize in me a certain ability in the management of confidential matters."

"Pshaw! Who are these persons!"

"I will give you the name of one, sir—Monsieur Franchet."

And Cyprien stole a glance at his master, who started in spite of all his self-control. This Franchet was at the climax of his celebrity, and exercised the mysterious function of Director-General of the Police. He owed his elevation solely to the Society of Jesus. This occult power, whose ramifications extended all over France, was mysterious and tremendous in its workings. No one could expect any favor if he did not first render this society most abject homage.

Cyprien now became invested with immense importance in the eyes of the Marquis. He was now not only an accomplice, but a protector, who might become a formidable adversary.

A brief silence followed this revelation, and then the Marquis bade Cyprien go on with what he was saying.

"I was saying, sir, that I have employed all the resources of my weak mind in the defence of the sacred interests of the society, and that I had the power to replace you in the position which your imprudence has forfeited!"

The lacquey was becoming insolent.

"And how will you perform this miracle?" asked the Marquis.

"By including you in the great plan which will prove our zeal for the monarchy."

The Marquis frowned. He was not pleased at the association!

Cyprien dropped his voice.

"A vast conspiracy," he said, "is forming to overthrow the king!"

The Marquis started.

"Not so—the monarchy is strong."

"There is no chariot so strong that it is not at the mercy of a grain of sand. I assure you, sir, that the danger is real. A Republican party——"

Fongereues shrugged his shoulders.

"A Republican party," repeated Cyprien, emphasizing the word, "is covering the country with its net. In a few months—in a few weeks, perhaps—a movement will burst out simultaneously all over France, and it may come to pass that the throne will fall quicker than we think. Royalty is unpopular in these days. Strength is the only sustaining force. And is the throne strong enough to resist a general uprising? I doubt it. And I, poor servant that I am, can arrest this movement, even now! I can betray the chiefs of this association. But I am an insignificant person. No matter how great the services may be that I render, a bone or two will be thrown to me to gnaw, and that will be deemed sufficient. But let the Marquis de Fongereues, peer of France, denounce at the Tuileries the formidable association that threatens the throne and the altar—let him present himself in the cabinet of the king with his hands full of proofs—let him show the documents and the lists of the conspirators, and the Marquis de Fongereues will become master of France. He may exact any recompense he pleases for saving the throne and the altar!"

The Marquis rose hastily. His eyes flashed.

"And you say that this formidable secret is yours Cyprien?"

"I hold the threads of the plot in my hand!"

"And yet, you are ready to abandon the benefits which would assuredly be yours should you decide to make the revelation?"

"I am, first of all, your servant, sir!"

"Throw your cards on the table, Cyprien! What do you want me to do in exchange for this great service?"

"I impose no condition. I have faith in the generosity of my master."

"And you are right!" the Marquis replied. "If I succeed, I will make you rich, and place you so high on the social ladder that the greatest names in France will bow before you!"

"Thank you, honored sir. When the hour arrives, I will remind you of your words. But now we must think of Pierre Labarre. Time presses!"

"I am ready. Where are we to find him?"

"Two leagues from here, near the little town of Vagney."

"It is now three o'clock," said the Marquis. "We can surely return here to-night. You had best order the horses at once."

When the Marquis was alone, he bowed his face in his hands.

"If I could believe him!" he murmured. "But I am afraid!"

A few brief words of explanation are here necessary. The Fongereues family re-entered France with the allied armies, and immediately obtained the favor of the king. The old Marquis was elevated to the peerage, and Magdalena felt that her ambitious projects were on the eve of fulfilment. The Vicomte de Talizac easily obtained proof of the death of Simon FougÈre; his wife and children had disappeared, and probably perished. The Vicomte, therefore, did not hesitate to claim as sole heir the estate on the death of the Marquis in 1817. But this estate, though considerable, was far less important than he and Magdalena had hoped. The Vicomte was deeply in debt, and his creditors became impatient. If he and the Vicomtesse had not been madly extravagant, all the more so from the restrictions they had so long endured, their revenues would have been more than sufficient. But these two persons, who had not recoiled from a terrible crime to ensure their undisputed possession of the Fongereues fortune, were now carried away by a wild thirst for excitement and gayety. The hÔtel they occupied became the scene of perpetual fÊtes and the rendezvous of the aristocracy.

Magdalena's son, who now bore the title of the Vicomte de Talizac, brought up amid this mad prodigality, developed early the faults of his nature, which were increased by the foolish indulgence of his mother.

His father read his character at a glance, and cautioned Magdalena, who at the first syllable he uttered silenced him in the most peremptory manner.

"Do you think," said Magdalena, "that my son is to conduct himself as if he were to earn his bread by the sweat of his brow? I am happy to say that he knows nothing of your petty economies."

As her husband protested, she lowered her voice and looked him full in the face. "Do you think," she said, "that it was to make a beggar of my son, that I told you to kill the other?"

The two guilty creatures gazed at each other; the Marquis was the first to turn his uneasy eyes away. From this moment the struggle began, and the Marquis led a most terrible life.

Before long the alliance with Mademoiselle de Salves was projected. This marriage was to the Marquis de Fongereues the last plank between himself and destruction. Unless this plan was carried to a happy termination, he was ruined. Already there were rumors floating about the court of spots on the hitherto untarnished shield of the Marquis de Fongereues. People were beginning to desert the hÔtel as rats fly from a falling house. The haughty manners of the Marquis and of Magdalena had conciliated no one. The insolence of Talizac had become proverbial; he had fought several duels from which he had come off unharmed. The approaching fall of this detested family was hailed with delight. It is therefore easy to understand why the Marquis was so eager to find Pierre Labarre.

He was interrupted in his reflections by Cyprien, who now returned with the innkeeper.

"I am sorry, sir," said the latter, "to be the bearer of annoyances. You know that we at this season are liable to inundations, and we have just learned that the torrent that crosses the road at Vagney is rising rapidly, and makes it dangerous to travel."

"But is there no other road?"

"None which is not equally flooded. Every where the danger would be just as great."

"I am willing to pay any price to get on this afternoon."

The innkeeper did everything to place obstacles in the path of the Marquis, who, however, insisted on going.

"Well!" said Schwann, to himself, "I shall not be easy until they return, for I fear that the inundation has only just begun."