“Dear Pierre,” she said, “you are surprised to see us accompanied by a stranger, but when you hear what he has done for us you will thank me for having induced him to return here with us.”

“Allow me,” interrupted Derues, “allow me to tell you what happened.  The gratitude which madame imagines she owes me causes her to exaggerate a small service which anybody would have been delighted to render.”

“No, monsieur; let me tell it.”

“Let mamma tell the story,” said Edouard.

“What is it, then?  What happened?” said Monsieur de Lamotte.

“I am quite ashamed,” answered Derues; “but I obey your wishes, madame.”

“Yes,” replied Madame de Lamotte, “keep your seat, I wish it.  Imagine, Pierre, just six days ago, an accident happened to Edouard and me which might have had serious consequences.”

“And you never wrote to me, Marie?”

“I should only have made you anxious, and to no purpose.  I had some business in one of the most crowded parts of Paris; I took a chair, and Edouard walked beside me.  In the rue Beaubourg we were suddenly surrounded by a mob of low people, who were quarrelling.  Carriages stopped the way, and the horses of one of these took fright in the confusion and uproar, and bolted, in spite of the coachman’s endeavours to keep them in hand.  It was a horrible tumult, and I tried to get out of the chair, but at that moment the chairmen were both knocked down, and I fell.  It is a miracle I was not crushed.  I was dragged insensible from under the horses’ feet and carried into the house before which all this took place.  There, sheltered in a shop and safe from the crowd which encumbered the doorway, I recovered my senses, thanks to the assistance of Monsieur Derues, who lives there.  But that is not all:  when I recovered I could not walk, I had been so shaken by the fright, the fall, and the danger I had incurred, and I had to accept his offer of finding me another chair when the crowd should disperse, and meanwhile to take shelter in his rooms with his wife, who showed me the kindest attention.”

“Monsieur—­” said Monsieur de Lamotte, rising.  But his wife stopped him.

“Wait a moment; I have not finished yet.  Monsieur Derues came back in an hour, and I was then feeling better; but before, I left I was stupid enough to say that I had been robbed in the confusion; my diamond earrings, which had belonged to my mother, were gone.  You cannot imagine the trouble Monsieur Derues took to discover the thief, and all the appeals he made to the police—­I was really ashamed!”

Although Monsieur de Lamotte did not yet understand what motive, other than gratitude, had induced his wife to bring this stranger home with her, he again rose from his seat, and going to Derues, held out his hand.

“I understand now the attachment my son shows for you.  You are wrong in trying to lessen your good deed in order to escape from our gratitude, Monsieur Derues.”