He referred to the Jesuits, who had already shaken Monsieur de Beuvre's resolution by threatening to prevent his daughters marriage. That gentleman's own tranquillity could be assured, at the price of this marriage. D'Alvimar understood the hint, promised the rector to consider the matter seriously and give him an answer two days later, since, as it happened, he was to pass the following day at Madame de Beuvre's. The bell on the château announced the marquis's dinner. Monsieur d'Alvimar took leave of the priest who had caused him to think more hopefully of his destiny, and retraced his steps to the manor. He felt more at ease and more light-hearted than he had been for several days, because he felt that he was in communication with a keen mind, ready to support him at need. His courage returned. This flight into Berry, this disquieting residence with those who were hostile to his faith and opinions, and this species of isolation which, two hours earlier, had assumed the gloomiest colors in his mind, now smiled upon him as the forerunners of a fortunate event. "Yes, yes, that man is right," he thought. "That marriage would be my salvation. I have only to make up my mind. Let me once turn that little provincial's head, and I shall be able to confess to her my disgrace at court. She will consider herself bound in honor to make up to me for it. And even if I must play the _moderate_ for a few days--well, I will try it! Courage! my horizon is brightening, and perhaps the star of my fortune is about to come forth from the clouds at last." He raised his hand as he spoke, and saw in front of him, on the bridge leading to the courtyard, the Moorish woman's child boldly riding one of the marquis's chariot horses. Mercedes had asked leave of Adamas to pass the day at the château, and the goodman had granted it in his master's name, proposing to present her to him as soon as he should be visible. As he was playing in the courtyard, the child had made a favorable impression on the coachman--_cocher_; in those days the common term was _carrossier_ or _carrosseur_; in Berry _carrosseux_--and he had consented to put him upon _Squilindre_, while he himself, mounted on _Pimante_, his mate, held the rein and led the team to the brook for its daily leg-bath. D'Alvimar was struck by the face of that child, who, on the preceding day, had darted among his horse's legs to beg, and had fled from his whip, and now, perched on the monumental Squilindre, looked down upon him with an air of kindly triumph. It was impossible to imagine a more interesting and touching face than that little vagrant's. His beauty was of a quiet type, however; he was pale, sunburned, and seemed not strong. His features were not absolutely perfect, but there was in the expression of his soft black eyes and in the sweet, sly smile that played about his delicately-chiselled mouth, a something absolutely irresistible to all whose hearts were not closed to the divine charm of childhood.