s the door had closed behind them, Lacheneur
said:

"I know very well, Monsieur, the arguments you intend to advance; and
the reason of your coming. You come to ask me again for Marie-Anne.
I know that my refusal has nearly killed Maurice. Believe me, I have
suffered cruelly at the thought; but my refusal is none the less
irrevocable. There is no power in the world capable of changing my
resolution. Do not ask my motives; I shall not reveal them; but rest
assured that they are sufficient."

"Are we not your friends?"

"You, Monsieur!" exclaimed Lacheneur, in tones of the most lively
affection, "you! ah! you know it well! You are the best, the only
friends, I have here below. I should be the basest and the most
miserable of men if I did not guard the recollection of all your
kindnesses until my eyes close in death. Yes, you are my friends; yes, I
am devoted to you--and it is for that very reason that I answer: no, no,
never!"

There could no longer be any doubt. M. d'Escorval seized Lacheneur's
hands, and almost crushing them in his grasp:

"Unfortunate man!" he exclaimed, hoarsely, "what do you intend to do? Of
what terrible vengeance are you dreaming?"

"I swear to you----"

"Oh! do not swear. You cannot deceive a man of my age and of my
experience. I divine your intentions--you hate the Sairmeuse family more
mortally than ever."

"I?"

"Yes, you; and if you pretend to forget it, it is only that they may
forget it. These people have offended you too cruelly not to fear you;
you understand this, and you are doing all in your power to reassure
them. You accept their advances--you kneel before them--why? Because
they will be more completely in your power when you have lulled their
suspicions to rest, and then you can strike them more surely----"

He paused; the communicating door opened, and Marie-Anne appeared upon
the threshold.

"Father," said she, "here is the Marquis de Sairmeuse."

This name, which Marie-Anne uttered in a voice of such perfect
composure, in the midst of this excited discussion, possessed such a
powerful significance, that M. d'Escorval stood as if petrified.

"He dares to come here!" he thought. "How can it be that he does not
fear the walls will fall and crush him?"

M. Lacheneur cast a withering glance at his daughter. He suspected her
of a ruse which would force him to reveal his secret. For a second, the
most furious passion contracted his features.

But, by a prodigious eff