intimate friends of Maxence Gilet. The rascals are mixed up in all the
pranks that are played about this town at night. It was through them
that Maxence knew what was said in your house when my mother and
brother were staying there."

"How did you get proof of such a monstrous thing?"

"I overheard their conversation one night as they were leaving a
drinking-shop. Your grandsons both owe Max more than three thousand
francs. The scoundrel told the lads to try and find out our
intentions; he reminded them that you had once thought of getting
round my uncle by priestcraft, and declared that nobody but you could
guide me; for he thinks, fortunately, that I am nothing more than a
'sabreur.'"

"My grandsons! is it possible?"

"Watch them," said Philippe. "You will see them coming home along the
place Saint-Jean, at two or three o'clock in the morning, as tipsy as
champagne-corks, and in company with Gilet--"

"That's why the scamps keep so sober at home!" cried Monsieur Hochon.

"Fario has told me all about their nocturnal proceedings," resumed
Philippe; "without him, I should never have suspected them. My uncle
is held down under an absolute thraldom, if I may judge by certain
things which the Spaniard has heard Max say to your boys. I suspect
Max and the Rabouilleuse of a scheme to make sure of the fifty
thousand francs' income from the Funds, and then, after pulling that
feather from their pigeon's wing, to run away, I don't know where, and