"Bah! What folly! Do you not know that if this fever carries off some, there will be others wanting to make their testaments? Do you not know that your work will be doubled? He! Answer me that!" Her voice had risen to its stormy pitch, but Ignace was beyond caring. "I must go," he said, feebly. Madame looked at him steadily. She saw that he was speaking truth. He must go, or if he stayed he would soon become a victim to his terror. "Attend then," she said, changing her tone and speaking with a touch of scorn. "You shall go." "Zenobie, my treasure--" "Hush. You shall go, I say. My mother at Tours will take you in, and you may, if you choose, depart at once.--Charles has been clerk long enough to understand the business with my superintendence." "Perfectly, perfectly. You need have no apprehension on that score. To tell the truth, my health is become so indifferent that even without this unhappy state of things I must have sought a little rest." Madame looked at him with a peculiar expression in her face. "That is settled then, monsieur. And I and the children, we remain here?" "If you think it best, my dear Zenobie. I have the most supreme confidence in your discretion," said the little man, eagerly. "You will, without doubt, be in perfect security. It is I only who am called out by the peculiar nature of my avocations, who really run any risk. You will remain here with Mademoiselle Veuillot." "With Mademoiselle Veuillot. Exactly." There was something not unlike a thunder-cloud in the extreme quietness of madame's manner, but the little notary went on unheeding: "The last letter that was forwarded from Chateau Ardron we did not answer, you will remember. It was your idea that it might have been supposed to have miscarried. Another would, do you not think so, require a different treatment?" "_Allez_," said madame, more sharply. "Will you then not stay and conduct the affair yourself?" The threat had the effect of stopping all Monsieur Roulleau's injunctions. He was restless and anxious to be gone. Therese, when she heard of it at their dinner, had no difficulty in discovering the motive, although husband and wife put it upon business at Tours, which required his presence. Nannon confirmed her idea. "I shall not soon forget his face when I told him it was so near." _It_ meant the fever at this time in Charville. "Will it come to us I wonder, Nannon?" "_Dame_, who knows? It has its road and it will keep to it. One or two have died of fright, that I do know, for I heard M. Deshoulieres say so." Nannon's cheery old face had grown sad and haggard. She knew too well what was going on. "This heat will kill us all, I believe," said Therese, sighing. "I feel as if I would give any thing to get down by the river. Do let me go, Nannon!"