“We were riding so fast just then that I daresay she did not see us,” replied the young Count. “But, then, why did you not go to speak to her?” “I fancy I have noticed, father, that she does not care that we should speak to her in public,” said Clement in an undertone. “We are a little too big.” The judge’s hearing was keen enough to catch these words, which brought a cloud to the Marquis’ brow. Popinot took pleasure in contemplating the picture of the father and his boys. His eyes went back with a sense of pathos to M. d’Espard’s face; his features, his expression, and his manner all expressed honesty in its noblest aspect, intellectual and chivalrous honesty, nobility in all its beauty. “You--you see, monsieur,” said the Marquis, and his hesitation had returned, “you see that Justice may look in--in here at any time--yes, at any time--here. If there is anybody crazy, it can only be the children--the children--who are a little crazy about their father, and the father who is very crazy about his children--but that sort of madness rings true.” At this juncture Madame Jeanrenaud’s voice was heard in the ante-room, and the good woman came bustling in, in spite of the man-servant’s remonstrances. “I take no roundabout ways, I can tell you!” she exclaimed. “Yes, Monsieur le Marquis, I want to speak to you, this very minute,” she went on, with a comprehensive bow to the company. “By George, and I am too late as it is, since Monsieur the criminal Judge is before me.” “Criminal!” cried the two boys. “Good reason why I did not find you at your own house, since you are here. Well, well! the Law is always to the fore when there is mischief brewing.--I came, Monsieur le Marquis, to tell you that my son and I are of one mind to give you everything back, since our honor is threatened. My son and I, we had rather give you back everything than cause you the smallest trouble. My word, they must be as stupid as pans without handles to call you a lunatic----” “A lunatic! My father?” exclaimed the boys, clinging to the Marquis. “What is this?” “Silence, madame,” said Popinot. “Children, leave us,” said the Marquis. The two boys went into the garden without a word, but very much alarmed. “Madame,” said the judge, “the moneys paid to you by Monsieur le Marquis were legally due, though given to you in virtue of a very far-reaching theory of honesty. If all the people possessed of confiscated goods, by whatever cause, even if acquired by treachery, were compelled to make restitution every hundred and fifty years, there would be few legitimate owners in France. The possessions of Jacques Coeur enriched twenty noble families; the confiscations pronounced by the English to the advantage of their adherents at the time when they held a part of France made the fortune of several princely houses.