“I was thinking of something else,” said the artist simply. “An officer in the army told me that he was once stopped in Dalmatia under similar circumstances by an excited populace, in the early morning as he was returning from a walk. This recollection came into my mind, and I looked at all those heads with the idea of painting a revolt of the year 1793. Besides, I kept saying to myself: Blackguard that I am! I have only got my deserts for coming here to look after an inheritance, instead of painting in my studio.” “If you will allow me to offer you a piece of advice,” said the procureur du roi, “you will take a carriage to-night, which the postmaster will lend you, and return to Paris by the diligence from Bourges.” “That is my advice also,” said Monsieur Hochon, who was burning with a desire for the departure of his guests. “My most earnest wish is to get away from Issoudun, though I leave my only friend here,” said Agathe, kissing Madame Hochon’s hand. “When shall I see you again?” “Ah! my dear, never until we meet above. We have suffered enough here below,” she added in a low voice, “for God to take pity upon us.” Shortly after, while Monsieur Mouilleron had gone across the way to talk with Max, Gritte greatly astonished Monsieur and Madame Hochon, Agathe, Joseph, and Adolphine by announcing the visit of Monsieur Rouget. Jean-Jacques came to bid his sister good-by, and to offer her his caleche for the drive to Bourges. “Ah! your pictures have been a great evil to us,” said Agathe. “Keep them, my sister,” said the old man, who did not even now believe in their value. “Neighbor,” remarked Monsieur Hochon, “our best friends, our surest defenders, are our own relations; above all, when they are such as your sister Agathe, and your nephew Joseph.” “Perhaps so,” said old Rouget in his dull way. “We ought all to think of ending our days in a Christian manner,” said Madame Hochon. “Ah! Jean-Jacques,” said Agathe, “what a day this has been!” “Will you accept my carriage?” asked Rouget. “No, brother,” answered Madame Bridau, “I thank you, and wish you health and comfort.” Rouget let his sister and nephew kiss him, and then he went away without manifesting any feeling himself. Baruch, at a hint from his grandfather, had been to see the postmaster. At eleven o’clock that night, the two Parisians, ensconced in a wicker cabriolet drawn by one horse and ridden by a postilion, quitted Issoudun. Adolphine and Madame Hochon parted from them with tears in their eyes; they alone regretted Joseph and Agathe. “They are gone!” said Francois Hochon, going, with the Rabouilleuse, into Max’s bedroom. “Well done! the trick succeeded,” answered Max, who was now tired and feverish. “But what did you say to old Mouilleron?” asked Francois.