"How the devil did you hear of that? But that time, believe me, I was very excusable." M. Langevin here made his appearance, freshly shaven and rubicund--a fine specimen of the sub-prefect in embryo. "It's wonderful," thought Fougas, "how well all our family bear their years! One wouldn't call that chap over thirty-five, and he's forty-six if he's a day. He doesn't look a bit like me, by the way; he takes after his mother!" "My dear!" said Mme. Langevin, "here's a tough subject, who promises to be wiser in future." "You are welcome, young man!" said the Counsellor, offering his hand to Fougas. This reception appeared cold to our poor hero. He had been dreaming of a shower of kisses and tears, and here his children contented themselves with offering their hands. "My chi---- monsieur," said he to Langevin, "there is one person still needed to complete our reunion. A few mutual wrongs, and those smoothed over by time, ought not to build an insurmountable barrier between us. May I venture to request the favor of being presented to your mother?" M. Langevin and his wife opened their eyes in astonishment. "How, monsieur?" said the husband. "Paris life must have affected your memory. My poor mother is no more. It is now three years since we lost her!" The good Fougas burst into tears. "Forgive me!" said he; "I didn't know it. Poor woman!" "I don't understand you! You knew my mother?" "Ingrate!" "Why, you're an amusing fellow! But your parents were invited to the funeral, were they not?" "Whose parents?" "Your father and mother!" "Eh! What's this you're cackling to me about? My mother was dead before yours was born!" "Your mother dead?" "Yes, certainly; in '89!" "What! Wasn't it your mother who sent you here?" "Monster! It was my fatherly heart that brought me!" "Fatherly heart?---- Why, then you're not young Jamin, who has been cutting up didoes in the capital, and has been sent to Nancy to go through the Agricultural School?" The Colonel answered with the voice of Jupiter tonans: "I am Fougas!" "Very well!" "If Nature says nothing to you in my behalf, ungrateful son, question the spirit of your mother!" "Upon my soul, sir," cried the Counsellor, "we can play at cross purposes a good while! Sit down there, if you please, and tell me your business--Marie, take away the children." Fougas did not require any urging. He detailed the romance of his life, without omitting anything, but with many delicate touches for the filial ears of M. Langevin. The Counsellor heard him patiently, with an appearance of perfect disinterestedness.