"Well, my good Madeleine, what has happened? Tell me your troubles. If in my power to remove them, it shall soon be done. What can I do for you?" "You know Durand, the overseer?" "Yes, yes!..." said Louis, frowning with the air of a man who knows more than he expresses. "He and my father have become intimate, I know not how or why, within a few weeks--since you stopped coming to our house. He often came before the inundation, and paid me a thousand absurd compliments. I made no reply to his silly speeches, but they seemed to please my parents. The first moment I set eyes on that man, he inspired me with fear. He looks so bold--so false! And besides...." "Besides what? Madeleine, I insist on your telling me everything." "Well, he tried every way to make us believe you are.... I dare not tell you...." "Go on, child. Nothing would astonish me from Durand. I know he hates me." "He says you are a hypocrite, a--Jesuit, a dangerous man. He told my father you were going to leave the mill, and seemed to boast of being the cause of it." "I suspected it," said Louis to himself. "Adams was only Durand's tool. Oh! what deceit!" "Is it true, then, that you are going away?" asked Madeleine anxiously. "Quite true, my child." "Oh! what a hateful man! I was right in detesting him! Since we have been here living in the same house with him, he has tormented me more than ever. He says he wishes to marry me...." "Has he dared go that far?" "Yes; and, what is worse, my parents have given their consent. Durand tells them he has money laid up; that he is earning a good deal here, and is willing to live with them and provide for the support of the whole family.... But I--I have a horror of that man! There is nothing disagreeable I do not say to him. I have told him plainly I would never consent to marry him. My parents were terribly angry at this; my father beat me, and my mother loaded me with abuse. They ended by saying, if I persisted in refusing Durand, they would find a way of making me change my mind. This scene took place last evening. What shall I do? O God! what shall I do?..." So saying, Madeleine burst into tears. Louis remained silent. He was reflecting. Self whispered: "Leave this girl to her unhappy fate. Do not embark in another undertaking that will get you into fresh trouble and may endanger everything--both Eugénie's love for you, and your reputation itself. This unfortunate girl has already been the cause of more than one sad moment; take care she does not at last ruin you, and likewise compromise herself...." But such selfish promptings had no power over a heart so generous and upright as that of Louis. Besides, he had learned such shocking things about Durand that, if he did not reveal them in order to save Madeleine, he would regard himself guilty of a crime, and not without reason. After some moments of silent reflection, all incertitude ceased. He had decided on the course to pursue. "How old are you, my child?" said he.