"M. Saint-Martin," said the cure, gravely, "I think there is a duty for us to perform before we can allow M. Deshoulieres to leave us--a duty and a reparation. My own share in the matter has been the heaviest. I beg to offer him my most sincere apologies." "It may or may not be, as this woman says," Fabien answered grudgingly; "it does not explain it altogether to my mind. At all events it is impossible to congratulate M. Deshoulieres upon his choice of a notary. I shall make a point of having the rascal punished, and meanwhile may I request you, monsieur, to do us the favour to fetch the will without delay? The sooner one gets out of this hole the better." "Allow me to repudiate M. St Martin's sentiments altogether," said the cure, with a flush on his sallow cheek. "I beg to decline having any thing to do with the reading of the papers connected with this--what I may call--unfortunate will. It had better be delayed until the arrival of the lawyer." "You desert me, in fact, Monsieur le Cure," said Fabien, crossly. "I leave you in good hands, as you must be aware," said the cure, who, having been mistaken himself, felt a degree of satisfaction in snubbing the young man. "Nothing that I can say can atone for the pain we have unintentionally inflicted upon M. Deshoulieres, and all that remains is a matter of form." "Will you not consent to meet us here to-morrow at the same time?" "On the contrary, immediately that I have been to the Eveche, I shall return to Ardron. Are you coming my way, M. Deshoulieres?" They all went down the stairs together--the cure, the doctor, Fabien looking discontented, Therese, and Nannon. Therese lingered a moment to say in an undertone,-- "Fabien, why do you not acknowledge that you have wronged him!" "Wronged him, bah! The only person wronged is myself. Therese, you used to take my part."