“How can your poor mother have any illusion on the subject? Certainly, you do not spoil her! Ah! I well know that children do not live for their parents, but for themselves. All the same, they might do a little, from time to time, for those who have brought them up and loved them from childhood.” “Oh, uncle! What you say pains me very much!” said Marcel, penitently. “Has my silence been interpreted in this way? To obey my father I have come to bury myself at Ars for several weeks. I think I have given him sufficient pledges of my good intentions, in spite of a few silly escapades I have been guilty of.” “Debts amounting to three hundred thousand francs, my little Marcel, without counting what I often gave you unknown to your parents, eh?” “Ah! Uncle Graff, why return to discuss such matters?” “Yes, you forget them very soon, don’t you?” Marcel smiled. “You are a very indulgent uncle; you know what young men are!” “All the same, I have never been young! Ah! Marcel, I should have adored pleasure and luxury had I not looked as solemn as a churchwarden.” “So you gave yourself up to finance, and succeeded brilliantly! My good uncle, it is you who pay when your spendthrift of a nephew is in difficulties! All the same, I am very fond of you, Uncle Graff.” He had taken him by the shoulders, and was embracing him with warmth. The old man, his eyes filled with tears, looked tenderly at the handsome young fellow by his side. He coughed to conceal his emotion, and said— “Yes, I know you are fond of me. Well, well! Promise me that you will write a nice little letter to your mother.” “I promise, Uncle Graff, I will write to-morrow morning, and one to my father into the bargain.” “That is right! By the way, things don’t seem to be going along very well here! Are these rascally strikers going to ruin our workmen?” “There is every appearance of it. Cardez has not sufficient tact; he is too straightforward in his talk. A fine man, in reality, but one who appears to act too tyrannically.” “I will attend to the matter myself. To-morrow I will see the syndicate. And you—what are you doing? Has your work been progressing?” “Considerably. I have discovered the pale green and the golden yellow I have been looking for. You shall see my samples.” “And the other affair?” Lowering his voice, he asked in anxious tones— “The powders?” “The formulæ have been tested, and their success is assured.” “Have you made any experiments?” “Yes, Uncle Graff, and they have been terrible in their simplicity. I set off, carrying a small piece of the commerce-explosive, in the direction of Bossicant; I placed it all around the roots of a huge oak. After igniting it, the immense tree, without noise or smoke, lay there level with the ground, lying in the heather, as though cut down by a giant scythe.” “No one saw you?”