Petit-Claud was not a little confused at this cry of innocence enlightened by the progress of the flames of litigation. It struck him too that Eve was a very beautiful woman. In the middle of the discussion old Séchard arrived, summoned by Petit-Claud. The old man’s presence in the chamber where his little grandson in the cradle lay smiling at misfortune completed the scene. The young attorney at once addressed the newcomer with: “You owe me seven hundred francs for the interpleader, Papa Séchard; but you can charge the amount to your son in addition to the arrears of rent.” The vinedresser felt the sting of the sarcasm conveyed by Petit-Claud’s tone and manner. “It would have cost you less to give security for the debt at first,” said Eve, leaving the cradle to greet her father-in-law with a kiss. David, quite overcome by the sight of the crowd outside the house (for Kolb’s resistance to Doublon’s men had collected a knot of people), could only hold out a hand to his father; he did not say a word. “And how, pray, do I come to owe you seven hundred francs?” the old man asked, looking at Petit-Claud. “Why, in the first place, I am engaged by you. Your rent is in question; so, as far as I am concerned, you and our debtor are one and the same person. If your son does not pay my costs in the case, you must pay them yourself.--But this is nothing. In a few hours David will be put in prison; will you allow him to go?” “What does he owe?” “Something like five or six thousand francs, besides the amounts owing to you and to his wife.” The speech roused all the old man’s suspicions at once. He looked round the little blue-and-white bedroom at the touching scene before his eyes--at a beautiful woman weeping over a cradle, at David bowed down by anxieties, and then again at the lawyer. This was a trap set for him by that lawyer; perhaps they wanted to work upon his paternal feelings, to get money out of him? That was what it all meant. He took alarm. He went over to the cradle and fondled the child, who held out both little arms to him. No heir to an English peerage could be more tenderly cared for than this little one in that house of trouble; his little embroidered cap was lined with pale pink. “Eh! let David get out of it as best he may. I am thinking of this child here,” cried the old grandfather, “and the child’s mother will approve of that. David that knows so much must know how to pay his debts.”