The sneer was so apparent that M. de Courtornieu was sorely tempted to make an angry reply. But he was not a man to yield to his first impulse--this ex-Imperial chamberlain now a _grand prevot_ under His Majesty King Louis XVIII. He reflected. Should he, on account of a sharp word, quarrel with Martial--with the only suitor who had ever pleased his daughter? A quarrel and he would be left without any prospect of a son-in-law! When would heaven send him such another? And how furious Blanche would be! He concluded to swallow the bitter pill; and it was in a tone of paternal indulgence that he remarked: “I see that you are very young, my dear Martial.” The baron was still kneeling beside the partition, holding his breath in an agony of suspense, and with his right ear against one of the crevices. “You are only twenty, my dear Martial,” pursued the Marquis de Courtornieu; “you are imbued with all the enthusiasm and generosity of youth. Complete your undertaking; I shall not oppose you; but remember that all may be discovered--and then----” “Have no fear, sir, on that score,” interrupted the young marquis; “I have taken every precaution. Did you see a single soldier in the corridor, just now? No. That is because my father, at my request, has just assembled all the officers and guards together under pretext of ordering exceptional precautions. He is talking to them now. This gave me an opportunity to come here unobserved. No one will see me when I go out. Who, then, will dare suspect me of having any hand in the baron’s escape?” “If the baron escapes, justice will require to know who aided him.” Martial laughed. “If justice seeks to know, she will find a culprit of my providing. Go, now; I have told you everything. I had but one person to fear--yourself. A trusty messenger requested you to join me here. You came; you know all, you have agreed to remain neutral. I am at ease, and the baron will be safe in Piedmont when the sun rises.” He picked up his lantern, and added, gaily: “But let us go--my father can’t harangue those soldiers forever.” “But you have not told me----” insisted M. de Courtornieu. “I will tell you everything, but not here. Come, come!”