But where was he to find this liberator?

The marquis had announced everywhere his intention of bestowing a dowry
of a million upon his daughter. Of course this had brought a host of
eager suitors, not only from the immediate neighborhood, but from parts
remote.

But, unfortunately, though many of them would have suited M. de
Courtornieu well enough, not a single one had been so fortunate as to
please Mlle. Blanche.

Her father presented some suitor; she received him graciously, lavished
all her charms upon him; but as soon as his back was turned, she
disappointed all her father's hopes by rejecting him.

"He is too small," she said, "or too large. His rank is not equal to
ours. I think him stupid. He is a fool--his nose is so ugly."

From these summary decisions there was no appeal. Arguments and
persuasions were useless. The condemned man no longer existed.

Still, as this view of aspirants to her hand amused her, she encouraged
her father in his efforts. He was beginning to despair, when fate
dropped the Duc de Sairmeuse and son at his very door. When he saw
Martial, he had a presentiment of his approaching release.

"He will be my son-in-law," he thought.

The marquis believed it best to strike the iron while it was hot. So,
the very next day, he broached the subject to the duke.