"What has happened?" he said to himself. "Can Mr. Smithson be displeased at my long absence?... Has he heard of Adams' intended conversion?... Perhaps Albert has obtained my dismissal." There was nothing cheering whichever way he turned. He therefore passed a restless night. Fortunately, he had a support that was once wanting: he trusted in God, and could pray. Prayer does not remove our fears, but it calms them. Besides, whatever misfortune threatens the Christian, he feels it will never befall him unless it is the will of God. However rude the blow, it is even changed into a blessing to him that turns with confidence to the Hand that chastens. God is ever merciful, especially toward those who truly hope in him. Eugénie, better informed than Louis as to what had taken place, but less pious, was at that very hour tormented by a thousand apprehensions really justified by the circumstances. She saw the storm approaching, and was sure it would overwhelm the one she loved. But what could she do? She had already got into trouble by undertaking his defence. She could only await in silence the result which was at hand. Then, perhaps, she could decide on something, or wait still longer before deciding. Thwarted affection more than any other sentiment in the world relies on the help of time. The next morning, Louis went to Mr. Smithson's office at the appointed hour. They had not had a special interview for a long time. Louis appeared as he usually did at that period--easy in his manners, but cold and taciturn. Mr. Smithson, on his side, had recovered his usual calmness. He ceremoniously offered the engineer a chair, and thus began the conversation: "Monsieur, I have thought it proper to have an immediate explanation with you. Your long absence has been unfortunate on many accounts. Moreover, a fact has recently come to my knowledge, or rather, a series of facts which have occurred in my manufactory, by no means agreeable to me." "I acknowledge, sir," replied Louis, "that my absence was long--much longer than I could have wished. But you would regard the motives that kept me away from the mill as a sufficient excuse, if you knew them." "I am already aware of them, monsieur, and admit that they were reasonable. But as you had a sufficient excuse for absenting yourself, you did wrong not to communicate it before leaving." "It would have been better to do so, I acknowledge; but I was sent for in haste, and obliged to leave without any other notice than a note. I have since been so absorbed in care as to hinder me from thinking of anything else." "Very well, monsieur, we will say no more about that. There remains the other occurrence that has vexed me. You have excited religious doubts in the mind of a poor fellow of my own belief who is young and inexperienced--considerations that should have checked your propensity to make proselytes."