his auditor was Maurice.

Leaning against the door, pale as death, he tried most energetically,
but in vain, to repress the tears of rage and of sorrow which swelled up
in his eyes.

To insult Lacheneur was to insult Marie-Anne--that is to say, to injure,
to strike, to outrage him in all that he held most dear in the world.

Ah! it is certain that Martial, had he been within his reach, would have
paid dearly for these insults to the father of the girl Maurice loved.

But he swore that this chastisement was only deferred--that it should
surely come.

And it was not mere angry boasting. This young man, though so modest
and so gentle in manner, had a heart that was inaccessible to fear. His
beautiful, dark eyes, which had the trembling timidity of the eyes of a
young girl, met the gaze of an enemy without flinching.

When M. Lacheneur had repeated the last words which he had addressed to
the Duc de Sairmeuse, M. d'Escorval offered him his hand.

"I have told you already that I was your friend," he said, in a voice
faltering with emotion; "but I must tell you to-day that I am proud of
having such a friend as you."

The unfortunate man trembled at the touch of that loyal hand which
clasped his so warmly, and his face betrayed an ineffable satisfaction.

"If my father had not returned it," murmured the obstinate Marie-Anne,
"my father would have been an unfaithful guardian--a thief. He has done
only his duty."

M. d'Escorval turned to the young girl, a little surprised.

"You speak the truth, Mademoiselle," he said, reproachfully; "but when
you are as old as I am, and have had my experience, you will know that
the accomplishment of a duty is, under certain circumstances, a heroism
of which few persons are capable."

M. Lacheneur turned to his friend.

"Ah! your words do me good, Monsieur," said he. "Now, I am content with
what I have done."

The baroness rose, too much the woman to know how to resist the generous
dictates of her heart.

"And I, also, Monsieur Lacheneur," she said, "desire to press your hand.
I wish to tell you that I esteem you as much as I despise the ingrates
who have sought to humiliate you, when they should have fallen at your
feet. They are heartless monsters, the like of whom certainly cannot be
found upon the earth."

"Alas!" sighed the baron, "the allies have brought back others who, like
these men, think the world created exclusively for their benefit."

"And these people wish to