rendered him."

The old servitor of the house of Sairmeuse laughed a loud, bitter laugh.

"You believe that!" said he; "then you do not know the nobles who have
been our masters for ages. 'A., you are a worthy fellow!'--very coldly
said--will be the only recompense I shall receive; and you will see us,
me, at my plough; you, out at service. And if I venture to speak of
the ten thousand francs that were given me, I shall be treated as an
impostor, as an impudent fool. By the holy name of God this shall not
be!"

"Oh, my father!"

"No! this shall not be. And I realize--as you cannot realize--the
disgrace of such a fall. You think you are beloved in Sairmeuse? You are
mistaken. We have been too fortunate not to be the victims of hatred and
jealousy. If I fall to-morrow, you will see all who kissed your hands
to-day fall upon you to tear you to pieces!"

His eye glittered; he believed he had found a victorious argument.

"And then you, yourself, will realize the horror of the disgrace. It
will cost you the deadly anguish of a separation from him whom your
heart has chosen."

He had spoken truly, for Marie-Anne's beautiful eyes filled with tears.

"If what you say proves true, father," she murmured, in an altered
voice, "I may, perhaps, die of sorrow; but I cannot fail to realize that