message.

M. Lacheneur staggered beneath the blow. He turned first so red, then so
frightfully pale, that those around him thought he was about to fall.

But he quickly recovered his self-possession, and without a word to the
messenger, he walked rapidly away, leading his daughter.

Some minutes later an old post-chaise, drawn by four horses, dashed
through the village at a gallop, and paused before the house of the
village cure.

Then one might have witnessed a singular spectacle.

Father Chupin had gathered his wife and his children together, and the
four surrounded the carriage, shouting, with all the power of their
lungs:

"Long live the Duc de Sairmeuse!"



CHAPTER II

A gently ascending road, more than two miles in length, shaded by a
quadruple row of venerable elms, led from the village to the Chateau de
Sairmeuse.

Nothing could be more beautiful than this avenue, a fit approach to a
palace; and the stranger who beheld it could understand the naively vain