Then seeing that his master had started on a brisk trot, the lad did the same. "Did your hear that, Frederick?" asked Marie, turning to her son. "That was the young Marquis de Pont Brillant. Is he not charming? It is pleasant to see such a worthy representative of rank and fortune, is it not, my son? To be such a high and mighty personage, and so perfectly polite and well-bred, is certainly a charming combination. But why do you not answer me, Frederick? What is the matter, Frederick?" added Madame Bastien, suddenly becoming uneasy. "There is nothing the matter with me, mother," was the cold reply. "But there must be. Your face looks so different from what it did a moment ago. You must be suffering, and, great Heavens, how pale you are!" "The sun has disappeared behind the clouds again, and I am cold!" "Then let us hasten back,--let us hasten back at once! Heaven grant the improvement you spoke of just now may continue." "I doubt it very much, mother." "How despondently you speak." "I speak as I feel." "You are not feeling as well, then, my dear child?" "Not nearly as well," the lad replied. Then added, with a sort of ferocious bitterness, "I have suffered a relapse, a complete relapse, but it is the cold that has caused it, probably." And the unfortunate youth, who had always adored his mother, now experienced an almost savage delight in increasing his youthful parent's anxiety, thus avenging the poignant suffering which his mother's praises of Raoul de Pont Brillant had caused him. Yes, for jealousy, a feeling as entirely unknown to Frederick as envy had been heretofore, now increased the resentment he already felt against the young marquis. * * * * * The mother and son wended their way homeward, Madame Bastien in inexpressible grief and disappointment, Frederick in gloomy silence, thinking with sullen rage that he had been on the point of confessing to his mother the shameful secret for which he blushed, and that at almost the very same moment that she was lavishing enthusiasm upon the object of his envy, the Marquis de Pont Brillant. The unconscious comparison which his mother had made between the young marquis and himself, a comparison, alas! so unflattering to himself, changed the almost passive dislike he had heretofore felt for Raoul de Pont Brillant into an intense and implacable hatred. CHAPTER VII. The little town of Pont Brillant is situated a few leagues from Blois, and not far from the Loire. A promenade called the mall, shaded by lofty trees, bounds Pont Brillant on the south. A few houses stand on the left side of the boulevard, which also serves as a fair ground. Doctor Dufour lived in one of these houses. About a month had elapsed since the events we have just related.