The servant withdrew, and the two ladies looked at each other in silent consternation.

“It must be one of Chupin’s sons,” faltered Blanche, at last.

“Undoubtedly; but what does he desire?”

“Money, probably.”  Aunt Medea lifted her eyes to heaven.

“God grant that he knows nothing of your meetings with his father!  Blessed Jesus! what if he should know.”

“You are not going to despair in advance!  We shall know all in a few moments.  Pray be calm.  Turn your back to us; look out into the street; do not let him see your face.  But why is he so long in coming?”

Blanche was not deceived.  It was Chupin’s eldest son; the one to whom the dying poacher had confided his secret.

Since his arrival in Paris he had been running the streets from morning until evening, inquiring everywhere and of everybody the address of the Marquis de Sairmeuse.  At last he discovered it; and he lost no time in presenting himself at the Hotel Meurice.

He was now awaiting the result of his application at the entrance of the hotel, where he stood whistling, with his hands in his pockets, when the servant returned, saying: 

“She consents to see you; follow me.”

Chupin obeyed; but the servant, greatly astonished, and on fire with curiosity, loitered by the way in the hope of obtaining some explanation from this country youth.

“I do not say it to flatter you, my boy,” he remarked, “but your name produced a great effect upon madame.”

The prudent peasant carefully concealed the joy he felt on receiving this information.

“How does it happen that she knows you?” pursued the servant.  “Are you both from the same place?”

“I am her foster-brother.”

The servant did not believe a word of this response; but they had reached the apartment of the marquise, he opened the door and ushered Chupin into the room.

The peasant had prepared a little story in advance, but he was so dazzled by the magnificence around him that he stood motionless with staring eyes and gaping mouth.  His wonder was increased by a large mirror opposite the door, in which he could survey himself from head to foot, and by the beautiful flowers on the carpet, which he feared to crush beneath his heavy shoes.

After a moment, Mme. Blanche decided to break the silence.

“What do you wish?” she demanded.

With many circumlocutions Chupin explained that he had been obliged to leave Sairmeuse on account of the numerous enemies he had there, that he had been unable to find his father’s hidden treasure, and that he was consequently without resources.

“Enough!” interrupted Mme. Blanche.  Then in a manner not in the least friendly, she continued:  “I do not understand why you should apply to me.  You and all the rest of your family have anything but an enviable reputation in Sairmeuse; still, as you are from that part of the country, I am willing to aid you a little on condition that you do not apply to me again.”