People did not look at her haughtily, or even curiously; but they turned away their heads to laugh, and she overheard remarks upon the maiden widow which pierced her very soul. They mocked her; they ridiculed her! “Oh! I will have my revenge!” she muttered. But she had not waited for these insults before thinking of vengeance; and she had found her father quite ready to assist her in her plans. For the first time the father and the daughter were in accord. “The Duc de Sairmeuse shall learn what it costs to aid in the escape of a prisoner and to insult a man like me. Fortune, favor, position--he shall lose all! I hope to see him ruined and dishonored at my feet. You shall see that day! you shall see that day!” said the marquis, vehemently. But, unfortunately for him and his plans, he was extremely ill for three days, after the scene at Sairmeuse; then he wasted three days more in composing a report, which was intended to crush his former ally. This delay ruined him, since it gave Martial time to perfect his plans and to send the Duc de Sairmeuse to Paris skilfully indoctrinated. And what did the duke say to the King, who accorded him such a gracious reception? He undoubtedly pronounced the first reports false, reduced the Montaignac revolution to its proper proportions, represented Lacheneur as a fool, and his followers as inoffensive idiots. Perhaps he led the King to suppose that the Marquis de Courtornieu might have provoked the outbreak by undue severity. He had served under Napoleon, and possibly had thought it necessary to make a display of his zeal. There have been such cases. So far as he himself was concerned, he deeply deplored the mistakes into which he had been led by the ambitious marquis, upon whom he cast most of the responsibility for the blood which had been shed. The result of all this was, that when the Marquis de Courtornieu’s report reached Paris, it was answered by a decree depriving him of the office of _grand prevot_. This unexpected blow crushed him. To think that a man as shrewd, as subtle-minded, as quick-witted, and adroit as himself--a man who had passed through so many troubled epochs, who had served with the same obsequious countenance all the masters who would accept his services--to think that such a man should have been thus duped and betrayed! “It must be that old imbecile, the Duc de Sairmeuse, who has manoeuvred so skilfully, and with so much address,” he said. “But who advised him? I cannot imagine who it could have been.” Who it was Mme. Blanche knew only too well. She recognized Martial’s hand in all this, as Marie-Anne had done.