“You don’t know anything about them, Josette. Mind your pots and pans, and heat the water,” remarked the old Fleming, interrupting the cook. “I know enough to know there used to be several thousand ounces of silver-ware about this house which you and your master have melted up; and if you are allowed to have your way, you’ll make ducks and drakes of everything till there’s nothing left.” “And monsieur,” added Martha, entering the kitchen, “will kill madame, just to get rid of a woman who restrains him and won’t let him swallow up everything he’s got. He’s possessed by the devil; anybody can see that. You don’t risk your soul in helping him, Mulquinier, because you haven’t got any; look at you! sitting there like a bit of ice when we are all in such distress; the young ladies are crying like two Magdalens. Go and fetch Monsieur l’Abbe de Solis.” “I’ve got something to do for monsieur. He told me to put the laboratory in order,” said the valet. “Besides, it’s too far--go yourself.” “Just hear the brute!” cried Martha. “Pray who is to give madame her foot-bath? do you want her to die? she has got a rush of blood to the head.” “Mulquinier,” said Marguerite, coming into the servants’ hall, which adjoined the kitchen, “on your way back from Monsieur de Solis, call at Dr. Pierquin’s house and ask him to come here at once.” “Ha! you’ve got to go now,” said Josette. “Mademoiselle, monsieur told me to put the laboratory in order,” said Lemulquinier, facing the two women and looking them down, with a despotic air. “Father,” said Marguerite, to Monsieur Claes who was just then descending the stairs, “can you let Mulquinier do an errand for us in town?” “Now you’re forced to go, you old barbarian!” cried Martha, as she heard Monsieur Claes put Mulquinier at his daughter’s bidding. The lack of good-will and devotion shown by the old valet for the family whom he served was a fruitful cause of quarrel between the two women and Lemulquinier, whose cold-heartedness had the effect of increasing the loyal attachment of Josette and the old duenna. This dispute, apparently so paltry, was destined to influence the future of the Claes family when, at a later period, they needed succor in misfortune. CHAPTER VIII Balthazar was again so absorbed that he did not notice Josephine’s condition. He took Jean upon his knee and trotted him mechanically, pondering, no doubt, the problem he now had the means of solving. He saw them bring the footbath to his wife, who was still in the parlor, too weak to rise from the low chair in which she was lying; he gazed abstractedly at his daughters now attending on their mother, without inquiring the cause of their tender solicitude. When Marguerite or Jean attempted to speak aloud, Madame Claes hushed them and pointed to Balthazar. Such a scene was of a nature to make a young girl think; and Marguerite, placed as she was between her father and mother, was old enough and sensible enough to weigh their conduct.