ours, on the 11th of January, 1831.

Denis Minoret.

Without an instant's hesitation the post master, who had locked himself
into his wife's bedroom to insure being alone, looked about for the
tinder-box, and received two warnings from heaven by the extinction of
two matches which obstinately refused to light. The third took fire. He
burned the letter and the will on the hearth and buried the vestiges of
paper and sealing-wax in the ashes by way of superfluous caution. Then,
allured by the thought of possessing thirty-six thousand francs a year
of which his wife knew nothing, he returned at full speed to his uncle's
house, spurred by the only idea, a clear-cut, simple idea, which was
able to piece and penetrate his dull brain. Finding the house invaded by
the three families, now masters of the place, he trembled lest he
should be unable to accomplish a project to which he gave no reflection
whatever, except so far as to fear the obstacles.

"What are you doing here?" he said to Massin and Cremiere. "We can't
leave the house and the property to be pillaged. We are the heirs, but
we can't camp here. You, Cremiere, go to Dionis at once and tell him to
come and certify to the death; I can't draw up the mortuary certificate
for an uncle, though I am assistant-mayor. You, Massin, go and ask old
Bongrand to attach the seals. As for you, ladies," he added, turning to
his wife and Mesdames Cremiere and Massin, "go and look after Ursula;
then nothing can be stolen. Above all, close the iron gate and don't let
any one leave the house."

The women, who felt the justice of this remark, ran to Ursula's bedroom,
where they found the noble girl, so cruelly suspected, on her knees
before God, her face covered with tears. Minoret, suspecting that the
women would not long remain with Ursula, went at once to the library,
found the volume, opened it, took the three certificates, and found in
the other volume about thirty bank notes. In spite of his brutal nature
the colossus felt as though a peal of bells were ringing in each ear.
The blood whistled in his temples as he committed the theft; cold as the
weather was, his shirt was wet on his back; his legs gave way under him
and he fell into a chair in the salon as if an axe had fallen on his
head.

"How the inheritance of money loosens a man's tongue! Did you hear
Minoret?" said Massin to Cremiere as they hurried through the town. "'Go
here, go there,' just as if he knew everything."