ing come so far, I
thought I might as well come to you at Marsac as borrow of a
money-lender. I have nothing on me but my clothes. Shut me up somewhere
on the premises, so that nobody can come in and see me at work, and----"

"What? you will not let me see you at your work then?" asked the old
man, with an ugly look at his son.

"You have given me to understand plainly, father, that in matters of
business there is no question of father and son----"

"Ah! you distrust the father that gave you life!"

"No; the other father who took away the means of earning a
livelihood."

"Each for himself, you are right!" said the old man. "Very good, I
will put you in the cellar."

"I will go down there with Kolb. You must let me have a large pot for
my pulp," said David; then he continued, without noticing the quick
look his father gave him,--"and you must find artichoke and asparagus
stalks for me, and nettles, and the reeds that you cut by the stream
side, and to-morrow morning I will come out of your cellar with some
splendid paper."

"If you can do that," hiccoughed the "bear," "I will let you have,
perhaps--I will see, that is, if I can let you have--pshaw!
twenty-five thousand francs. On condition, mind, that you make as
much for me every year."

"Put me to the proof, I am quite willing," cried David. "Kolb! take
the horse and go to Mansle, quick, buy a large hair sieve for me of a
cooper, and some glue of the grocer, and come back again as soon as
you can."

"There! drink," said old Sechard, putting down a bottle of wine, a
loaf, and the cold remains of the dinner. "You will need your
strength. I will go and look for your bits of green stuff; green rags
you use for your pulp, and a trifle too green, I am afraid."

Two hours later, towards eleven o'clock that night, David and Kolb
took up their quarters in a little out-house against the cellar wall;
they found the floor paved with runnel tiles, and all the apparatus
used in Angoumois for the manufacture of Cognac brandy.

"Pans and firewood! Why, it is as good as a factory made on purpose!"
cried David.

"Very well, good-night," said old Sechard; "I shall lock you in, and
let both the dogs loose; nobody will bring you any paper, I am sure.
You show me those sheets to-morrow, and I give you my word I will be
your partner and the business will be straightforward and properly
managed."

David and Kolb, locked into the distillery, spent nearly two hours in
macerat