“Well, well, I suppose you have done your duty, and I thank you; but we have had enough of that.  Tell me who owns Grinselhof now?”

The man of business appeared considerably disconcerted by the contemptuous interruption of his visitor; yet he strove to conceal his mortification by a sorry smile, as he replied,—­

“I see, sir, that you have taken a firm stand and will do as you please.  Grinselhof was bought in by the mortgagees, for the price offered was below its value.”

“Who lives there?”

“It is uninhabited.  No one goes to the country in winter.”

“Can it be bought from its present proprietor?”

“Certainly.  I am authorized to offer it to any one for the amount of the mortgages.”

“Then Grinselhof belongs to me! Be kind enough to inform the owners of it at once!”

“Very well, sir.  Consider Grinselhof as your property from this moment.  If you wish to visit it you will find the keys at the tenant’s house.”

Gustave took his hat and made ready to go, and, as he did so, pressed the notary’s hand with evident cordiality:—­

“I am tired and need repose, for I feel somewhat overcome by the sad news you have given me.  May God help you in your efforts to fulfil your promises!  My gratitude will surpass all you can imagine.  Farewell till to-morrow!”

CHAPTER X.

Spring, gentle spring, had thrown aside the funeral garb of winter, and earth awoke again to vigorous life.  Grinselhof reappeared in all the splendor of its wild, natural scenery; its majestic oaks displayed their verdant domes, its roses bloomed as sweetly as of old, elder-blossoms filled the air with delicious odor, butterflies fluttered through the garden, and every thicket was vocal with the song of birds.

Nothing seemed changed at Grinselhof:  its roads, its paths, were still deserted, and sad was the silence that reigned in its shadows.  Yet immediately around the house there was more life and movement than formerly.  At the coach-house two grooms were busy washing and polishing a new and fashionable coach; while the neigh of horses resounded from the stable.  A trim waiting-maid stood on the door-sill laughing and joking with the lackeys, and a respectable old butler looked knowingly on the group.

Suddenly the clear silvery ring of a bell was heard from the parlor, and the waiting-maid ran in, exclaiming, “Good Heavens! there’s Monsieur ringing for his breakfast, and it is not ready yet!”

A few moments afterward she was seen mounting the staircase with a rich silver salver covered with breakfast-things; and, entering the parlor, she placed them silently on a table before a young gentleman who seemed entirely absorbed by his own thoughts, and then instantly left the room without a word.