related the scene which had just taken place at the presbytery.

The baron listened petrified with astonishment, almost doubting the
evidence of his own senses. Mme. d'Escorval's indignant and sorrowful
exclamations showed that every noble sentiment in her soul revolted
against such injustice.

But there was one auditor, whom Marie-Anne alone observed, who was moved
to his very entrails by this recital. This auditor was Maurice.

Leaning against the door, pale as death, he tried most energetically,
but in vain, to repress the tears of rage and of sorrow which swelled up
in his eyes.

To insult Lacheneur was to insult Marie-Anne--that is to say, to injure,
to strike, to outrage him in all that he held most dear in the world.

Ah! it is certain that Martial, had he been within his reach, would have
paid dearly for these insults to the father of the girl Maurice loved.

But he swore that this chastisement was only deferred--that it should
surely come.

And it was not mere angry boasting. This young man, though so modest
and so gentle in manner, had a heart that was inaccessible to fear. His
beautiful, dark eyes, which had the trembling timidity of the eyes of a
young girl, met the gaze of an enemy without flinching.

When M. Lacheneur had repeated the last words which he had addressed to
the Duc de Sairmeuse, M. d'Escorval offered him his hand.