“No.”
M. d’Escorval sat for a moment in silence.
“This passes comprehension,” he murmured at last. And so low that his son could not hear him, he added: “I will see Lacheneur to-morrow; this mystery must be explained.”
CHAPTER XVI
The cottage where M. Lacheneur had taken refuge was situated on a hill overlooking the water.
It was, as he had said, a small and humble dwelling, but it was rather less miserable than the abodes of most of the peasants of the district.
It was only one story high, but it was divided into three rooms, and the roof was covered with thatch.
In front was a tiny garden, in which a few fruit-trees, some withered cabbages, and a vine which covered the cottage to the roof, managed to find subsistence.
This garden was a mere nothing, but even this slight conquest over the sterility of the soil had cost Lacheneur’s deceased aunt almost unlimited courage and patience.