“Here is something better. At the Bourse a rumour has got abroad that the Explosives Company is in possession of the Trémont patents, and the shares have begun to mount, in spite of the desperate efforts of the bears. Accordingly, our situation is saved, and, on the other hand, that of Lichtenbach seems to be in a terrible pass!” “You do not expect me to get excited over that?” “I do not, indeed. But your father, who for the past three months has hardly been able to sleep, is now happy and smiling. He has just gone to Aubervilliers to examine a plot of land, covering seven acres, which has been offered to us, and which would be the very spot for constructing the works necessary. He is especially pleased at owing this result to you. Though not very expansive, he is enthusiastic and warm-hearted, and exceedingly proud to be obliged to confess that you are so gifted. Up to the present, it is Trémont that has been mentioned, but, when it is known that it is you who brought the affair to its completion, and your name is in everybody’s mouth, as soon will be the case, then you will see your father expand.” Marcel made no reply. He walked to and fro in the study, with so absent-minded an air that Graff exclaimed— “What a strange fellow you are! And yet you must be well pleased with what I have been telling you. Though you will scarcely listen to me. What is the matter with you?” The young man shook his head, and, with an attempt at a smile, said— “There is nothing the matter with me, Uncle Graff. What do you expect me to say?” “Ah! Perhaps you have no suspicion of the plans Baradier has been forming for you. He explained them to me this very morning. We are going to put Marcel at the head of the works as director. At the same time he shall be one of the managing directors of the Explosives Company we are about to completely reorganize. You see, Marcel, you are about to play a very important _rôle_ in life at twenty-six years of age. And your father added, ‘If he will marry, I shall no longer have anything to wish for. He will have satisfied me in everything.’ What do you think of the idea? I believe he was thinking of Geneviève de Trémont. What will your reply be?” Marcel replied quietly— “Nothing whatever, Uncle Graff.” The old man touched Marcel on the shoulder, and, looking attentively at him, said— “I do not understand you, Marcel; there is something you are hiding from me. Have you seen the woman of Ars again?” This time, the young man broke out— “No, I have not seen her; but I know she is in Paris. I know where I shall see her this evening. Uncle Graff, I intend to have the key to this living enigma.”