“Let me know your conditions, sir,” said Maurice.
“First of all your visits here—after certain rumours that I have circulated—would arouse suspicion. You must only come here at night time, and then only at hours agreed upon in advance—never when you are not expected.” Lacheneur paused, and then seeing that Maurice’s attitude implied unreserved consent, he added: “You must also find some way to cross the river without employing the ferryman, who is a dangerous fellow.”
“We have an old skiff; I will persuade my father to have it repaired.”
“Very well. Will you also promise me to avoid the Marquis de Sairmeuse?”
“I will.”
“Wait a moment—we must be prepared for any emergency. Perhaps in spite of our precautions you may meet him here. M. de Sairmeuse is arrogance itself; and he hates you. You detest him, and you are very hasty. Swear to me that if he provokes you, you will ignore his insults.”
“But I should be considered a coward.”
“Probably; but will you swear?”
Maurice was hesitating when an imploring look from Marie-Anne decided him. “I swear it!” he said gravely.
“As far as Chanlouineau is concerned it would be better not to let him know of our agreement; but I will see to that point myself.” Lacheneur paused once more and reflected for a moment whether he had left anything forgotten. “All that remains, Maurice,” he soon resumed, “is to give you a last and very important piece of advice. Do you know my son?”