But the baron was not to be got rid of so easily, especially now that his suspicions had almost ripened into certainty. “I must speak with you alone,” he said in a curt tone. M. Lacheneur turned round. “I am very busy,” he replied with evident reluctance of manner. “I only ask for five minutes. But if you haven’t the time to spare to-day, I can return to-morrow--the day after to-morrow--or any day when I can see you in private.” Lacheneur saw plainly that it would be impossible to escape this interview, so with a gesture of a man who resigns himself to a necessity, he bade his son and Chanlouineau withdraw. They left the room, and as soon as the door had closed behind them, Lacheneur exclaimed: “I know very well, M. le Baron, the arguments you intend to advance; and the reason of your coming. You come to ask me again for Marie-Anne. I know that my refusal has nearly killed Maurice. Believe me, I have suffered cruelly at the thought; but my refusal is none the less irrevocable. There is no power in the world capable of changing my resolution. Don’t ask my motives; I cannot reveal them; but rest assured that they are sufficiently weighty.” “Are we not your friends?” asked M. d’Escorval. “You--!” exclaimed Lacheneur with affectionate cordiality--”ah! You know it well!--you are the best, the only friends I have here below. I should be the greatest wretch living if I did not retain the recollection of your kindness until my eyes close in death. Yes, you are my friends, yes, I am devoted to you--and it is for that very reason, that I answer your proposals with no, no, never!” There was no longer any room for doubt. M. d’Escorval seized Lacheneur’s hands, and almost crushing them in his grasp, “Unfortunate man!” he exclaimed, “What do you intend to do? Of what terrible vengeance are you dreaming!” “I swear to you----” “Oh! do not swear. You cannot deceive a man of my age and of my experience. I divine your intentions--you hate the Sairmeuse family more mortally than ever.” “I----” “Yes, you; and if you pretend to forget the way they treated you, it is only that they may forget it. These people have offended you too cruelly not to fear you; you understand this, and you are doing all in your power to reassure them. You accept their advances--you kneel before them--why? Because they will be more completely in your power when you have lulled their suspicions to rest; and then you can strike them more surely--” He paused; the door of the front room opened, and Marie-Anne appeared upon the threshold. “Father,” said she, “Here is the Marquis de Sairmeuse.” The mention of this name at such a juncture was so ominously significant that M. d’Escorval could not restrain a gesture of surprise and fear. “He dares to come here!” he thought. “What, is he not afraid the very walls will fall and crush him?”