"And never asking for a salary," laughed Monsieur Cardonnet. "Nonsense, Emile, that is not what I mean, and that rôle of menial would outrage nature. No, no, this is no time to throw dust in my eyes, and I am not the man to make any mistake as to your real intentions. I am not yet so nearly ruined that I can't afford to hire an overseer, and I do not think that I could select one less fitted than you to manage workmen. I want you to be another myself, to help me in the work of planning, to learn for me, to give me your ideas, subject to my right to combat and modify them; in a word, to seek out and invent methods of money-making which I will carry out when they suit me. In this way your constant studies and your fertile imagination can assist me in multiplying your fortune by ten. But to obtain this result, Emile, there must be no working with indifference and absence of interest, as you have been doing for a fortnight past. I am not deceived by this temporary submission, concerted with Gilberte, to extort my consent. I require submission for your whole life. I wish you to be ready to undertake journeys--with your wife, if you please--to examine the progress of the manufacturing industry; in a word, I want you to sign, not on paper before a notary, but on my head and with your heart's blood, and before God, a contract which will wipe out your whole past of dreams and chimeras, and which will pledge your convictions, your will, your faith, your devotion, your religion, your whole future, to the success of my work." "And suppose I do not believe in your work?" said Emile, turning pale. "You must believe in it; or, if it is impracticable, let me be the first to cease to believe in it. But do not think to escape me by that détour. If we are forced to strike our tent here, I shall pitch it somewhere else, and I shall not stop until I die. Wherever I may be, whatever I may do, you must follow me, second me, and sacrifice all your theories, all your dreams to me." "What! even my very thoughts, my belief in the future?" cried Emile in dismay. "O father! you are trying to dishonor me in my own eyes!" "Do you draw back? Ah! you are not even in love, my poor Emile! But let us stop here. This is enough excitement for your poor head. Take time to reflect. I don't wish you to reply until I question you again. Consult the intensity of your passion, and go and consult your mistress. Go to Châteaubrun, go there every day, every hour in the day; you won't meet Galuchet there again. Inform Gilberte and her parents of the result of this conference. Tell them everything. Tell them that I give my consent to your marriage a year hence on condition that you take now the oath that I demand. Your mistress must know this just as it is; I insist upon it; and if you don't tell her, I will take it upon myself to do it; for I know the way to Châteaubrun now!"