"Ah, when I said that you might boast of it," returned the good man, "I did not mean that there was any cause for pride in resembling such a rascal, far from it! I am in a position to say, since I am one of the family, that my nephew was the most infernal blackguard imaginable. And indeed when I reflect, it seems very improbable that he should still be alive, for the villain must have been hung long before this." "Do you think so?" retorted Arnauld, not without bitterness. "I am sure of it, Monsieur Martin-Guerre," said Carbon Barreau, with an air of conviction. "However, it doesn't offend you, does it, to have me speak in such terms of the scoundrel, since you are not he, my good host?" "Not in the least," said Arnauld, decidedly ill at ease, however. "Ah, Monsieur," continued the uncle, who was rather inclined to chatter, "how many times have I congratulated myself, in speaking to his poor weeping mother, on having remained unmarried, and having had no children to dishonor my name and ruin my life, as that vile good-for-nothing did for her." "Let me see; that is true," said Arnauld to himself. "Uncle Carbon had no children,--no heirs, that is to say." "What are you thinking, Master Martin?" asked the stranger. "I was thinking," Arnauld replied in his sweetest tones, "that in spite of your assertions to the contrary, Messire Carbon Barreau, you would be very happy to-day if you had a son, or even, in default of a son, this same evil-disposed nephew, whom you seem to regret so little, but who would at least be something for you to love, and somebody to whom you could hand down your property when you die." "My property?" said Carbon Barreau. "Yes, to be sure, your property," replied Arnauld. "You who scatter pistoles around with so lavish a hand cannot be poor; and this Arnauld, whom I resemble, would be your heir, I suppose. _Pardieu_! I am inclined to regret to a certain extent that I am not he." "Arnauld du Thill, if he is not hung, would really be my heir," returned Carbon Barreau, gravely. "But he will derive no great advantage from that fact, for I am not rich. I offer a pistole for the privilege of resting a while and for a little refreshment, because I am overborne with weariness and hunger; but that does not prevent my purse from being light,--too light, alas!" "Hum!" said Arnauld, incredulously. "Don't you believe me, Master Martin-Guerre? As you please. It is no less true that I am now on my way to Lyons, to see the President of the Parliament, where I acted as usher for twenty years, who offers me shelter and sustenance for the rest of my days. He sent me twenty-five pistoles to pay my few small debts, and the expenses of the journey, large-hearted man that he is! But what I have left of that sum is all that I own in the world. Therefore my heritage is too trifling a matter for Arnauld du Thill, even were he alive, to take the trouble to claim it. That is why--"