“I am in my own house, am I not?” said the old man, in some confusion. “Oh, indeed, are you turning thief in your old age? You are not drunk this time either----I shall go straight to the mistress and tell her.” “Hold your tongue, Marion,” said Séchard, drawing two crowns of six francs each from his pocket. “There----” “I will hold my tongue, but don’t you do it again,” said Marion, shaking her finger at him, “or all Angoulême shall hear of it.” The old man had scarcely gone out, however, when Marion went up to her mistress. “Look, madame,” she said, “I have had twelve francs out of your father-in-law, and here they are----” “How did you do it?” “What was he wanting to do but to take a look at the master’s pots and pans and stuff, to find out the secret, forsooth. I knew quite well that there was nothing in the little place, but I frightened him and talked as if he were setting about robbing his son, and he gave me twelve francs to say nothing about it.” Just at that moment Basine came in radiant, and with a letter for her friend, a letter from David written on magnificent paper, which she handed over when they were alone. “MY ADORED EVE,--I am writing to you the first letter on my first sheet of paper made by the new process. I have solved the problem of sizing the pulp in the trough at last. A pound of pulp costs five sous, even supposing that the raw material is grown on good soil with special culture; three francs’ worth of sized pulp will make a ream of paper, at twelve pounds to the ream. I am quite sure that I can lessen the weight of books by one-half. The envelope, the letter, and samples enclosed are all manufactured in different ways. I kiss you; you shall have wealth now to add to our happiness, everything else we had before.” “There!” said Eve, handing the samples to her father-in-law, “when the vintage is over let your son have the money, give him a chance to make his fortune, and you shall be repaid ten times over; he has succeeded at last!” Old Séchard hurried at once to the Cointets. Every sample was tested and minutely examined; the prices, from three to ten francs per ream, were noted on each separate slip; some were sized, others unsized; some were of almost metallic purity, others soft as Japanese paper; in color there was every possible shade of white. If old Séchard and the two Cointets had been Jews examining diamonds, their eyes could not have glistened more eagerly. “Your son is on the right track,” the fat Cointet said at length. “Very well, pay his debts,” returned old Séchard. “By all means, if he will take us into partnership,” said the tall Cointet. “You are extortioners!” cried old Séchard. “You have been suing him under Métivier’s name, and you mean me to buy you off; that is the long and the short of it. Not such a fool, gentlemen----” The brothers looked at one another, but they contrived to hide their surprise at the old miser’s shrewdness.