‘Certainly, I will leave you to digest what I have told you,’ he said, with great composure; ‘but not just yet; I must place certain alternatives before you, and, if you are a discreet girl, you will make the choice I desire. If you leave my hospitable roof, you go forth branded as your father’s murderer, with an ugly name that will ever cling to you. You will go forth to be pointed at and scorned, and to be shut out of the society of your friends. On the other hand, if you remain here, you may remain on honourable terms. There is a place, not the grave, which swallows up wives; and the husband is left not only to all intents and purposes a widower, but in the eye of the law wifeless, so that he may marry again. I am sorry to say it, but that place is about to swallow up Madame Plomb. I offer you her place. She will be dead,--dead to all the world, and dead by law. You may occupy the place of honour at my table, sit beside me in my carriage, dress as suits your taste, lavish money as you list. You shall be my second wife, and the curé’s daughter will come bowing down to you and asking for subscriptions for the church and the poor, and you can give more than all the rest of the people in the village, and you can set up a magnificent tomb to your father, and have a thousand masses said for his soul.’ ‘Madame!’ cried the girl, ‘oh, dear madame, come to my rescue!’ ‘You trust to the leaden wife to protect you, do you?’ asked Berthier, laughing. ‘The leaden woman shall not be at hand to stand between us much longer. I have managed that she shall disappear.’ Gabrielle looked fixedly at him, and her heart stood still. ‘Yes, I promise you that,’ said Berthier; ‘I will have no more knives drawn upon me, and presented at my throat. I have taken precautions against a recurrence of such a proceeding. Let me tell you, dearest, that she shall not be much longer in this house. In a very few hours I hope to see her removed to a place of security. Should you like to know whither?‘--he sidled up to her, put his lips to her ear, and whispered a name. ‘Now I leave you,’ he said, drawing back; ‘I leave you to make your choice. Think what it would be to be called Madame Berthier de Sauvigny, and to reign over the peasants of Malouve!’ With a snap of his fingers he withdrew. It was some time before Gabrielle had sufficiently recovered to escape into the house. She fled to Madame Berthier’s room and threw herself into a chair; then, fearing lest her pursuer should intrude himself upon her again, she went to the door to lock or bolt it, but found that the bolt had been removed, and there was no key in the lock. Berthier had spoken the truth when he said that no place in the house was secure from his entrance. She reseated herself, and awaited Madame Berthier’s return. That lady arrived in good spirits. She had secured a protector for Gabrielle, and she had spoiled her husband’s sport with the dogs.