Then George suggested the priest; but nothing had been settled when they reached the inn-door.  There he was, swinging a cane at the foot of the billiard-room stairs—­the little bug-a-boo, who was now so much in the way of all of them!  The innkeeper muttered some salutation, and George just touched his hat.  Then they both passed on, and went into the house.

Unfortunately the plea of Marie’s illness was in part cut from under their feet by the appearance of Marie herself.  George, who had not as yet seen her, went up quickly to her, and, without saying a word, took her by the hand and held it.  Marie murmured some pretence at a salutation, but what she said was heard by no one.  When her uncle came to her and kissed her, her hand was still grasped in that of George.  All this had taken place in the passage; and before Michel’s embrace was over, Adrian Urmand was standing in the doorway looking on.  George, when he saw him, held tighter by the hand, and Marie made no attempt to draw it away.

‘What is the meaning of all this?’ said Urmand, coming up.

‘Meaning of what?’ asked Michel.

‘I don’t understand it—­I don’t understand it at all,’ said Urmand.

‘Don’t understand what?’ said Michel.  The two lovers were still holding each other’s hands; but Michel had not seen it; or, seeing it, had not observed it.

‘Am I to understand that Marie Bromar is betrothed to me, or not?’ demanded Adrian.  ’When I get an answer either way, I shall know what to do.’  There was in this an assumption of more spirit than had been expected on his part by his enemies at the Lion d’Or.

‘Why shouldn’t you be betrothed to her?’ said Michel.  ’Of course you are betrothed to her; but I don’t see what is the use of your talking so much about it.’

’It is the first time I have said a word on the subject since I’ve been here,’ said Urmand.  Which was true; but as Michel was continually thinking of the betrothal, he imagined that everybody was always talking to him of the matter.  Marie had now managed to get her hand free, and had retired into the kitchen.  Michel followed her, and stood meditative, with his back to the large stove.  As it happened, there was no one else present there at the moment.

‘Tell him to go back to Basle,’ whispered Marie to her uncle.  Michel only shook his head and groaned.

‘I don’t think I am at all well-treated here among you,’ said Adrian Urmand to George as soon as they were alone.

‘Any special friendship from me you can hardly expect,’ said George.  ’As to my father and the rest of them, if they ill-treat you, I suppose you had better leave them.’

’I won’t put up with ill-treatment from anybody.  It’s not what I’m used to.’

‘Look here, M. Urmand,’ said George.  ’I quite admit you have been badly used; and, on the part of the family, I am ready to apologise.’

‘I don’t want any apology.’