ulquinier alone said: "We shall succeed." Unhappily, from day to day
the Searcher's face grew sadder. Sometimes, when he came to dinner he
dared not look at his daughter; at other times he glanced at her in
triumph. Marguerite employed her evenings in making young de Solis
explain to her many legal points and difficulties. At last her masculine
education was completed; she was evidently preparing herself to execute
the plan she had resolved upon if her father were again vanquished in
his duel with the Unknown (X).

About the beginning of July, Balthazar spend a whole day sitting on a
bench in the garden, plunged in gloomy meditation. He gazed at the mound
now bare of tulips, at the windows of his wife's chamber; he shuddered,
no doubt, as he thought of all that his search had cost him: his
movements betrayed that his thoughts were busy outside of Science.
Marguerite brought her sewing and sat beside him for a while before
dinner.

"You have not succeeded, father?"

"No, my child."

"Ah!" said Marguerite, in a gentle voice. "I will not say one word of
reproach; we are both equally guilty. I only claim the fulfilment of
your promise; it is surely sacred to you--you are a Claes. Your children
will surround you with love and filial respect; but you now belong to
me; you owe me obedience. Do not be uneasy; my reign will be gentle,
and I will endeavor to bring it quickly to an end. Father, I am going
to leave you for a month; I shall be busy with your affairs; for," she
said, kissing him on his brow, "you are now my child. I take Martha with
me; to-morrow Felicie will manage the household. The poor child is
only seventeen, and she will not know how to resist you; therefore be
generous, do not ask her for money; she has only enough for the barest
necessaries of the household. Take courage: renounce your labors and
your thoughts for three or four years. The great problem may ripen
towards discovery; by that time I shall have gathered the money that
is necessary to solve it,--and you will solve it. Tell me, father, your
queen is clement, is she not?"

"Then all is not lost?" said the old man.

"No, not if you keep your word."

"I will obey you, my daughter," answered Claes, with deep emotion.

The next day, Monsieur Conyncks of Cambrai came to fetch his
great-niece. He was in a travelling-carriage, and would only remain
long enough for Marguerite and Martha to make their last arrangements.
Monsieur Claes received his c