“Uncle, you will come with me, alone, and on foot, or I shall never return here; I shall know that the town of Issoudun tells the truth, when it declares you are under the dominion of Mademoiselle Flore Brazier.  That my uncle should love you, is all very well,” he resumed, holding Flore with a fixed eye; “that you should not love my uncle is also on the cards; but when it comes to your making him unhappy—­halt!  If people want to get hold of an inheritance, they must earn it.  Are you coming, uncle?”

Philippe saw the eyes of the poor imbecile roving from himself to Flore, in painful hesitation.

“Ha! that’s how it is, is it?” resumed the lieutenant-colonel.  “Well, adieu, uncle.  Mademoiselle, I kiss your hands.”

He turned quickly when he reached the door, and caught Flore in the act of making a menacing gesture at his uncle.

“Uncle,” he said, “if you wish to go with me, I will meet you at your door in ten minutes:  I am now going to see Monsieur Hochon.  If you and I do not take that walk, I shall take upon myself to make some others walk.”

So saying, he went away, and crossed the place Saint-Jean to the Hochons.

Every one can imagine the scenes which the revelations made by Philippe to Monsieur Hochon had brought about within that family.  At nine o’clock, old Monsieur Heron, the notary, presented himself with a bundle of papers, and found a fire in the hall which the old miser, contrary to all his habits, had ordered to be lighted.  Madame Hochon, already dressed at this unusual hour, was sitting in her armchair at the corner of the fireplace.  The two grandsons, warned the night before by Adolphine that a storm was gathering about their heads, had been ordered to stay in the house.  Summoned now by Gritte, they were alarmed at the formal preparations of their grandparents, whose coldness and anger they had been made to feel in the air for the last twenty-four hours.

“Don’t rise for them,” said their grandfather to Monsieur Heron; “you see before you two miscreants, unworthy of pardon.”

“Oh, grandpapa!” said Francois.

“Be silent!” said the old man sternly.  “I know of your nocturnal life and your intimacy with Monsieur Maxence Gilet.  But you will meet him no more at Mere Cognette’s at one in the morning; for you will not leave this house, either of you, until you go to your respective destinations.  Ha! it was you who ruined Fario, was it? you, who have narrowly escaped the police-courts—­ Hold your tongue!” he said, seeing that Baruch was about to speak.  “You both owe money to Monsieur Maxence Gilet; who, for six years, has paid for your debauchery.  Listen, both of you, to my guardianship accounts; after that, I shall have more to say.  You will see, after these papers are read, whether you can still trifle with me,—­still trifle with family laws by betraying the secrets of this house, and reporting to a Monsieur Maxence Gilet what