CHAPTER XIII

The Chateau de Courtornieu is, next to Sairmeuse, the most magnificent
habitation in the _arrondissement_ of Montaignac.

The approach to the castle was by a long and narrow road, badly paved.
When the carriage containing Martial and his father turned from the
public highway into this rough road, the jolting aroused the duke from
the profound revery into which he had fallen on leaving Sairmeuse.

The marquis thought that he had caused this unusual fit of abstraction.

"It is the result of my adroit manoeuvre," he said to himself, not
without secret satisfaction. "Until the restitution of Sairmeuse is
legalized, I can make my father do anything I wish; yes, anything. And
if it is necessary, he will even invite Lacheneur and Marie-Anne to his
table."

He was mistaken. The duke had already forgotten the affair; his most
vivid impressions lasted no longer than an indentation in the sand.

He lowered the glass in front of the carriage, and, after ordering the
coachman to drive more slowly:

"Now," said he to his son, "let us talk a little. Are you really in love
with that little Lacheneur?"

Martial could not repress a start. "Oh! in love," said he, lightly,