champions of two different principles, as well as rivals.

Martial, remembering his father, yielded.

"We shall meet again, Monsieur d'Escorval," he said, as he retired. At
this threat, Maurice shrugged his shoulders, and said:

"You had better not desire it."



CHAPTER V

The abode of the Baron d'Escorval, that brick structure with stone
trimmings which was visible from the superb avenue leading to Sairmeuse,
was small and unpretentious.

Its chief attraction was a pretty lawn that extended to the banks of the
Oiselle, and a small but beautifully shaded park.

It was known as the Chateau d'Escorval, but that appellation was gross
flattery. Any petty manufacturer who had amassed a small fortune would
have desired a larger, handsomer, and more imposing establishment.

M. d'Escorval--and it will be an eternal honor to him in history--was
not rich.

Although he had been intrusted with several of those missions from which
generals and diplomats often return laden with millions, M. d'Escorval's
worldly possessions consisted only of the little patrimony bequeathed