"I know, I know about that," said Monsieur Antoine, putting his finger to his lips: "he told me the whole story. But he exaggerated his grievances against your father, as usual. We will talk about that later, however, and I have to thank you, on my own account, for your interest in him. He went away at daybreak, and I don't know if he will be able to return to-day, for he is more hotly pursued than ever; but I am sure that his affairs will soon take a turn for the better, thanks to you. You must tell me what you finally obtained from your father in the direction of my poor friend's safety and satisfaction. I am authorized to listen to you and to reply to you, for I have full powers to arrange the terms of pacification; I am sure that any terms that pass through your mouth will be honorable! But the matter is not so pressing that you cannot breakfast with us, and I tell you frankly that I will not begin negotiations on an empty stomach. Let us begin by feeding your horse, for animals don't know how to ask for what they want, and we ought to look out for them before we look out for ourselves, lest we forget them. Look you, Janille! bring your apron full of oats, for this noble beast is in the habit of eating them every day I am sure, and I want him to neigh in token of good-will every time he passes my gate; indeed I want him to come in in spite of his master, if he happens to forget me." Janille, notwithstanding the parsimonious economy that guided all her actions, unhesitatingly brought a small quantity of oats which she kept in reserve for great occasions. She was of the opinion that they were a useless luxury; but she would have sold her last gown for the honor of her master's house, and on this occasion she said to herself with generous shrewdness that the present Emile had made her at their last interview and the one he would not fail to make her to-day would be more than enough to feed his horse sumptuously as often as he chose to come. "Eat, my boy, eat," she said, patting the horse with an air which she strove to render manly and knowing; then, taking a handful of straw, she set about rubbing him down. "Hold, Dame Janille," cried Emile, taking the straw from her hands, "I will do that myself." "Pray, do you think I wouldn't do it as well as a man?" said the omni-competent little woman. "Never fear, monsieur, I am as good in the stable as in the pantry and the laundry; and if I didn't pay my visit to the hay-rack and the harness-room every day, that little rattle-brain _jockey_ would never keep monsieur le comte's mare in decent condition. See how clean and fat she is, poor old _Lanterne_! She isn't handsome, monsieur, but she's good; she's like everything else here except my child, who is handsome and good too." "Your child!" said Emile, suddenly remembering a fact which deprived Mademoiselle de Châteaubrun's image of something of its poetic charm. "You have a child here? I have not seen her."