Maurice smiled, he was perfectly cool, and not a detail of the scene before him had escaped his notice. If he had felt any doubts before, they were now dispelled. On the fire he saw a large cauldron of moulten lead, while several bullet-moulds stood on the hearth, besides the andirons. “If, sir, I venture to present myself at your house,” said young d’Escorval in a grave, impressive voice, “it is because I know everything. I have discovered your revengeful projects. You are looking for men to aid you, are you not? Very well! look me in the face, in the eyes, and tell me if I am not one of those a leader is glad to enrol among his followers?” Lacheneur seemed terribly agitated. “I don’t know what you mean,” he faltered, forgetting his feigned anger; “I have no such projects as you suppose.” “Would you assert this upon oath? If so, why are you casting those bullets? You are clumsy conspirators. You should lock your door; some one else might have opened it.” And adding example to precept, he turned and pushed the bolt. “This is only an imprudence,” he continued: “but to reject a willing volunteer would be a mistake for which your associates would have a right to call you to account. Pray understand that I have no desire to force myself into your confidence. Whatever your cause may be, I declare it mine; whatever you wish, I wish; I adopt your plans; your enemies are my enemies; command me and I will obey you. I only ask one favour, that of fighting, conquering, or dying by your side.” “Oh! father refuse him!” exclaimed Marie-Anne, “refuse him! It would be a crime to accept his offer.” “A crime! And why, if you please?” asked Maurice. “Because our cause is not your cause; because its success is doubtful; because dangers surround us on every side.” Maurice interrupted her with a cry of scorn. “And you think to dissuade me,” said he, “by warning one of the dangers which you a girl can yet afford to brave. You cannot think me a coward! If peril threatens you, all the more reason to accept my aid. Would you desert me if I were menaced, would you hide yourself, saying, ‘Let him perish, so that I be saved!’ Speak! would you do this?” Marie-Anne averted her face and made no reply. She could not force herself to utter an untruth; and on the other hand she was unwilling to answer: “I would act as you are acting.” She prudently waited for her father’s decision. “If I complied with your request, Maurice,” said M. Lacheneur, “in less than three days you would curse me, and ruin us by some outburst of anger. Loving Marie-Anne as you do, you could not behold her equivocal position unmoved. Remember, she must neither discourage Chanlouineau nor the marquis. I know as well as you do that the part is a shameful one; and that it must result in the loss of a girl’s most precious possession--her reputation; still, to ensure our success, it must be so.”