old the Marquis
that Simon was living.

Twenty-five years had elapsed--twenty-five years of anguish and sorrow
for the Marquis. He had seen France fighting with heroic energy against
all Europe. He had heard the enthusiastic shouts of 1792, and then the
dull groans of the people crushed under the heel of the conqueror. And
while his country bled and fought, the Marquis blushed with shame in
London, Berlin and Vienna when his French ears heard the maledictions of
the conquered.

As soon as his son, the Vicomte Jean, reached the age of twenty, he had
become one of the most active agents of the coalition, and, as if to
indicate his hatred of France, married a German.

From that time the Marquis heard nothing but abuse of France, nothing
but exultation when her sons fell in Spain or in Russia. The old man's
heart was sore within him, but it was then too late for him to make a
stand, and he was obliged to live on amid this hatred.

Once only did Jean go to France to lend his aid to Cadondal's
conspiracy, but he was obliged to flee precipitately, and with
difficulty succeeded in gaining the frontier. On his return he was in a
state of sullen rage. Was it despair at his lack of success, or did the
Vicomte feel any remorse? His father watched him with troubled eyes and
many fears, but did not dare ask a question.

What had become of Simon? The Marquis had read in a newspaper that a
Simon Fougere carried the orders of the day at the battle of
Hohenlinden. He leaped at once at the truth. Simonne's son was fighting
for his country, while his other son, the Vicomte de Talizac, was
fighting against it.

Suddenly the Marquis beheld the fall of the Imperial idol. The allied
armies were in France. Vengeance was near at hand!

Three times the Marquis sent Pierre to France, but the faithful servant
could learn nothing of Simon, but this last time he discovered that
Simon was living. Pierre had been in the service of the Marquis for
forty years. He had known Simonne, and felt for his master the deepest
affection. He was of the people, and only this affection had induced him
to leave France. By degrees he had become the confidant of his master,
and read his half-broken heart like an open book, and realized that it
was full of regrets, almost of remorse. Then he swore to himself that he
would aid the Marquis to repair the injustice done to Simon. It is
needless to say that Pierre's honest nature felt no sympathy for the
Marquise. S