“What! is it Lacheneur—”
“Who is at the head of the movement? yes, Marquis. Ah! your usual discernment has failed you in this instance. What, you have been a constant visitor at this house, and you have suspected nothing? And you contemplate a diplomatic career! But this is not all. You know now for what purpose the money which you so lavishly bestowed upon them has been employed. They have used it to purchase guns, powder, and ammunition.”
The duke had become satisfied of the injustice of his suspicions; but he was now endeavoring to irritate his son.
It was a fruitless effort. Martial knew very well that he had been duped, but he did not think of resenting it.
“If Lacheneur has been captured,” he thought; “if he should be condemned to death and if I should save him, Marie-Anne would refuse me nothing.”
CHAPTER XXIV
Having penetrated the mystery that enveloped his son’s frequent absence, the Baron d’Escorval had concealed his fears and his chagrin from his wife.
It was the first time that he had ever had a secret from the faithful and courageous companion of his existence.
Without warning her, he went to beg Abbe Midon to follow him to the Reche, to the house of M. Lacheneur.