It was the second day after Marie-Anne’s installation at the Borderie.

That event was the general topic of conversation; and Chanlouineau’s will was the subject of countless comments.

“Here is Monsieur Lacheneur’s daughter with an income of more than two thousand francs, without counting the house,” said the old people, gravely.

“An honest girl would have had no such luck as that!” muttered the unattractive maidens who had not been fortunate enough to secure husbands.

This was the great news which Chupin brought to Mme. Blanche.

She listened to it, trembling with anger, her hands so convulsively clinched that the nails penetrated the flesh.

“What audacity!” she exclaimed. “What impudence!”

The old poacher seemed to be of the same opinion.

“If each of her lovers gives her as much she will be richer than a queen. She will have enough to buy both Sairmeuse and Courtornieu, if she chooses,” he remarked, maliciously.

If he had desired to augment the rage of Mme. Blanche, he had good reason to be satisfied.

“And this is the woman who has alienated Martial’s heart from me!” she exclaimed. “It is for this miserable wretch that he abandons me!”

The unworthiness of the unfortunate girl whom she regarded as her rival, incensed her to such a degree that she entirely forgot Chupin’s presence. She made no attempt to restrain herself or to hide the secret of her sufferings.

“Are you sure that what you tell me is true?” she asked.

“As sure as that you stand there.”

“Who told you all this?”

“No one — I have eyes. I went to the Borderie yesterday to see for myself, and all the shutters were open. Marie-Anne was leaning out of a window. She does not even wear mourning, the heartless hussy!”

Poor Marie-Anne, indeed, had no dress but the one which Mme. d’Escorval had given her on the night of the insurrection, when she laid aside her masculine habiliments.

Chupin wished to irritate Mme. Blanche still more by other malicious remarks, but she checked him by a gesture.

“So you know the way to the Borderie?” she inquired.

“Perfectly.”

“Where is it?”

“Opposite the mills of the Oiselle, near the river, about a league and a half from here.”

“That is true. I remember now. Were you ever in the house?”

“More than a hundred times while Chanlouineau was living.”

“Explain the topography of the dwelling!”

Chupin’s eyes dilated to their widest extent.

“What do you wish?” he asked, not understanding in the least what was required of him.

“I mean, explain how the house is constructed.”

“Ah! now I understand. The house is built upon an open space a little distance from the road. Before it is a small garden, and behind it an orchard enclosed by a hedge. Back of the orchard, to the right, are the vineyards; but on the left side is a small grove that shades a spring.”

He paused suddenly, and with a knowing wink, inquired:

“But what use do you expect to make of all this information?”

“What does that matter to you? How is the interior arranged?”

“There are three large square rooms on the ground floor, besides the kitchen and a small dark room.”

“Now, what is on the floor above?”

“I have never been up there.”

“How are the rooms furnished which you have visited?”

“Like those in any peasant’s house.”

Certainly no one was aware of the existence of the luxurious apartment which Chanlouineau had intended for Marie-Anne. He had never spoken of it, and had even taken the greatest precautions to prevent anyone from seeing him transport the furniture.

“How many doors are there?” inquired Blanche.

“Three; one opening into the garden, another into the orchard, another communicating with the stables. The staircase leading to the floor above is in the middle room.”

“And is Marie-Anne alone at the Borderie?”

“Entirely alone at present; but I suppose it will not be long before her brigand of a brother joins her.”

Mme. Blanche fell into a revery so deep and so prolonged that Chupin at last became impatient.

He ventured to touch her upon the arm, and, in a wily voice, he said: “Well, what shall we decide?”

Blanche shuddered like a wounded man on hearing the terrible click of the surgeon’s instruments.

“My mind is not yet made up,” she replied. “I must reflect — I will see.”

And remarking the old poacher’s discontented face, she said, vehemently:

“I will do nothing lightly. Do not lose sight of Martial. If he goes to the Borderie, and he will go there, I must be informed of it. If he writes, and he will write, try to procure one of his letters. I must see you every other day. Do not rest! Strive to deserve the good place I am reserving for you at Courtornieu. Go!”

He departed without a word, but also without attempting to conceal his d............