The girl was the sister of Jean Lebertre, curé of the church, and she kept house for her brother. During the conversation, a priest stepped out of the upper room that opened on to the balcony, and leaning his elbows on the wooden rail, looked down on André. ‘What is the matter?’ he asked. Matthias turned his face to the questioner. It was Lindet. ‘I cannot discover what has become of my daughter, Monsieur le Curé. Pauline, here, asserts that she fainted in church at the great thunder-clap, and that she was carried out by two gentlemen.’ In a moment, Lindet strode down the stairs, and said, looking fixedly with his bright eyes on the girl: ‘Answer me, Pauline, who were those gentlemen?’ ‘I do not know, monsieur.’ ‘What were they like?’ ‘Ma foi! I was so dazzled that I hardly know.’ ‘Are you sure they were gentlemen?’ ‘Oh, monsieur! of course they were. One had on a velvet coat.’ ‘Of what colour?’ ‘Reddish-brown, I think.’ ‘And is that all you observed of him?’ ‘He wore a sword.’ ‘And the other?’ ‘The other gentleman was quite old.’ ‘Did you see the face of the first?’ ‘I think so.’ ‘And did you notice any peculiarity? Consider, Pauline.’ ‘His eyes were strange. The sockets seemed inflamed.’ Lindet beat his hands together; André folded his arms doggedly, and his chin sank on his breast, whilst a cloud settled on his brow. ‘That is enough,’ he said, in sullen tones; ‘I am going home.’ Lindet caught his arm. ‘Are you going home, man?’ ‘Yes, I am tired. I have lost my crops, I have lost my daughter, and, what is worst, I have spoilt my best waistcoat.’ ‘What! will you not make further enquiries? Your daughter will be ruined,’ said Lindet, vehemently. ‘Why make further enquiries? I know now where she is.’ ‘And will you make no effort to recover her?’ ‘Why should I? I can do nothing. The poor cannot resist the great. The storm came on just now, and the lightning smote yon spire. Why did you not make an effort to protect the spire? Because you were powerless against the bolt of heaven. Well! that is why I make no attempt to protect my child; what could I do to oppose the will of an Intendant, a great man at Court, and very rich?’ ‘The child will be ruined. Make an attempt to save her.’ André shook his head. ‘No attempt I could make would save her; no attempt I could make would save my corn either. I shall go home and wipe my waistcoat; perhaps I may save _that_ from utter ruin.’ CHAPTER VI. Thomas Lindet was not satisfied. Some effort must be made to rescue the girl. If the father would not move, he must. He started immediately for the château. He was an impetuous man; what he resolved on doing he did at once, as quickly as he could. In half an hour he was at the Château Malouve.