prisoner at Roche-Mauprat, and it was he who rescued me."

At that Patience took me by the arm and led me in. A few days later I
was carried to the chateau of the chevalier, M. Hubert de Mauprat, at
Sainte-Sévère, and there I learnt that Roche-Mauprat had been taken,
that five of my uncles were dead, and that two, John and Antony, had
disappeared.

"Bernard," added the chevalier, "I owe to you the life I hold dearest in
the world. All my own life shall be devoted to giving you proofs of my
gratitude and esteem. Bernard, we are both of us victims of a vicious
family. The wrong that has been done you shall be repaired. They have
deprived you of education, but your soul has remained pure. Bernard, you
will restore the honour of your family, promise me this."


_III.--I Go to America and Return_


For a long time I am sure my presence was a source of utter discomfort
to the kind and venerable chevalier, and to his daughter. I was boorish
and illiterate and Edmée was one of the most perfect women to be found
in France. She found her happiness in her own family, and the sweetest
simplicity crowned her mental powers and lofty virtues. Brute like, at
that time I saw her only with the eyes of the body, and believed I loved
her because she was beautiful. Her fiance, M. de la Marche, the
lieutenant-general, a shallow and frigid Voltairean, understood her but
little better. A day came when I could understand her--the day when M.
de la Marche could have understood her would never have come.