always at Lacheneur's. When will you recover from your _penchant_ for
that little girl?"

Martial did not reply. He felt that he was at that "little girl's"
mercy. Each glance of hers made his heart throb wildly. By her side
he was a willing captive. If she had asked him to make her his wife he
would not have said no.

But Marie-Anne had not this ambition. All her thoughts, all her wishes
were for her father's success.

Maurice and Marie-Anne had become M. Lacheneur's most intrepid
auxiliaries. They were looking forward to such a magnificent reward.

Such feverish activity as Maurice displayed! All day long he hurried
from hamlet to hamlet, and in the evening, as soon as dinner was over,
he made his escape from the drawing-room, sprang into his boat, and
hastened to the Reche.

M. d'Escorval could not fail to remark the long and frequent absences
of his son. He watched him, and soon became absolutely certain that
Lacheneur had, to use the baron's own expression, seduced him.

Greatly alarmed, he decided to go and see his former friend, and fearing
another repulse, he begged Abbe Midon to accompany him.

It was on the 4th of March, at about half-past four o'clock, that M.
d'Escorval and the cure started for the Reche. They were so anxious
and troubled in mind that they scarcely exchanged a dozen words as they
wended their way onward.