eave, accompanied to
the door by the whole party. When fairly in the carriage he made a sign
to Laurence to come and speak to him, and she sprang upon the foot-board
with the lightness of a swallow.

"You are not an ordinary woman, and you ought to understand me," he said
in her ear. "Malin's conscience will never allow him to leave you in
peace; he will set some trap to injure you. I implore you to be careful
of all your actions, even the most unimportant. Compromise, negotiate;
those are my last words."

The brothers stood motionless behind their cousin and watched the
_berlingot_ as it turned through the iron gates and took the road to
Troyes. Laurence repeated the old man's last words. But sage experience
should not present itself to the eyes of youth in a _berlingot_, colored
stockings, and a queue. These ardent young hearts had no conception
of the change that had passed over France; indignation crisped their
nerves, honor boiled with their noble blood through every vein.

"He, the head of the house of Chargeboeuf!" said the Marquis de Simeuse.
"A man who bears the motto _Adsit fortior_, the noblest of warcries!"

"We are no longer in the days of Saint-Louis," said the younger Simeuse.

"But 'We die singing,'" said the countess. "The cry of the five young
girls of my house is mine!"

"And ours, 'Cy meurs,'" said the elder Simeuse. "Therefore, no quarter,
I say; for, on reflection, we shall find that our relative had pondered
well what he told us--Gondreville to be the title of a Malin!"

"And his seat!" said the younger.

"Mansart designed it for noble stock, and the populace will get their
children in it!" exclaimed the elder.

"If that were to come to pass, I'd rather see Gondreville in ashes!"
cried Mademoiselle Cinq-Cygne.

One of the villagers, who had entered the grounds to examine a calf
Monsieur d'Hauteserre was trying to sell him, overheard these words as
he came from the cow-sheds.

"Let us go in," said Laurence, laughing; "this is very imprudent; we are
giving the old marquis a right to blame us. My poor Michu," she added,
as she entered the salon, "I had forgotten your adventure; as we are
not in the odor of sanctity in these parts you must be careful not
to compromise us in future. Have you any other peccadilloes on your
conscience?"

"I blame myself for not having killed the murderer of my old masters
before I came to the rescue of my present ones--"

"Michu!" said the abbe in a warni