"No one with you, you understand."

"No one but the boat."

"You will stay on the bank of the river, like a boatman taking a rest.

You will see two women coming."

"The ladies from the little house! Do you think that they'll come?"

"I tell you that they will come, in the utmost distress, looking for a boat to take them to one of the little islands that lie just above the mill."

"Where the obstructions are, and the rapids. _Fichtre!_ it's no sport handling a boat there! The Marne is dangerous enough anyway; but in that place, it wouldn't take long to upset a boat!"

"They will see yours and they will beg you to take them to the nearest island."

"I begin to understand."

"You will accept; you will row them as near as possible to the obstructions you speak of; then you will lose your oars in the river, and in order to recover them you will jump into the water."

"_Fichtre!_ that's rather dangerous!"

"Not for you, who know how to swim; you can select a spot where you can jump in without danger. Then you will swim ash.o.r.e, paying no attention to the shrieks of those women, who will be left in the boat without oars to guide it, and who, I am glad to believe----"

"Will turn upside down with their boat! Oh! as to that, there isn't the slightest doubt of it; especially if no one comes to their help."

"Who do you suppose will risk his life for them? In the first place, the banks are always deserted just there, and it often happens that not a boat of any sort pa.s.ses along that part of the river for half a day at a time."

"But what about the fellows who fight those women's battles? I shouldn't like to meet that young Freluchon, who played ball with Luminot.

_Bigre!_ he'd play something else with me!"

"Don't be afraid; the duel will be fought in the opposite direction, and those men will not be in that neighborhood."

"All right!"

"Well! is it agreed? will you do exactly as I have told you? do you understand me perfectly?"

"Unless I am an idiot, I should say that you have made it plain enough.

You want to drown those two----"

"Hush! hold your tongue! there are things one must never say."

"To be sure, it's quite enough to do them."

"Can I rely on you?"

"Hum! it will cost a great deal. I take a big risk."

"Here, this roll contains a thousand francs in gold."

"Ah! that's very pretty! But it's only a payment on account, eh?"

"To-morrow, here, at this same hour, I will give you twice as much more, if all has gone as I desire."

"In that case, it's a bargain."

"You swear?"

"Is there any need of swearing between us? Get your yellow boys ready for to-morrow."

"Until then avoid showing yourself in the village."

"Never fear; I will keep out of sight in some wine-shop, at a little distance. It will soon be dark; to-morrow morning will soon be here."

"I may rely on you?"

"Of course, as it's a bargain. Adieu!"

XXV

THE DOG

It was seven o'clock in the morning; the sky was clear and the weather superb. In the country it is a keen delight to enjoy a lovely morning; nature has more attractions, more charms; the gra.s.s is fresher, the foliage a deeper green; the flowers exhale a sweeter perfume; although one may justifiably be lazy in the city, it is a great fault when one lives amid the fields.

Honorine and Agathe loved to enjoy the awakening of nature; they were always in their garden at seven o'clock. And now that so great a change had taken place in their position, now that the future appeared so sunny and happy, they had too many things to say to each other to pa.s.s their time in sleep.

The gentlemen had left them rather late the night before; but when they went away, they had said: "Until to-morrow."

"And come earlier than you did to-day!" Agathe had said to Edmond.

He had answered yes, but his voice had not its usual distinctness. One cannot always control one's voice; that organ almost always betrays the sentiments that agitate us.

Honorine had shown to Paul the letters of Adhemar to Julia Montoni, and Paul had no doubt that, when he should send them to the count's uncle, the old man would recognize Agathe as his grand-niece.

Meanwhile, Monsieur Duronceray insisted that half of his fortune should const.i.tute the girl's dowry; then, in an undertone, almost in a whisper, he had offered the other half to Honorine, with the t.i.tle of his wife.

She had listened to that proposal without uttering a word, but her eyes had answered for her; it seemed to her so sweet to love and to be loved, that she could hardly believe in her happiness.

"Don't you think," Agathe asked her friend, "that Edmond seemed very distraught last evening when he bade us good-night?"

"Why, no; I didn't notice it."

"Oh! because you didn't look at anybody but Monsieur Paul."

"Well! are you displeased because someone loves me?"