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Updated: May 19, 2025
They had spoken loud enough to be overheard by Balstain, the innkeeper, who had learned, during the day, of the magnificent reward which had been promised to Lacheneur's captor. When he heard the name of the guest who was sleeping quietly under his roof, a thirst for gold seized him. He whispered a word to his wife, then escaped through the window to run and summon the gendarmes.
Lacheneur's face was whiter than his linen, and a sinister light glittered in his eye. "I was there," said he, pointing to the door, "and I heard all." "Father!" "What! would you try to defend her after she came here to crush you with her insolent good fortune after she overwhelmed you with her ironical pity and with her scorn?
The voice of conscience was unheard in this tumult of passion. Her sufferings, and Jean Lacheneur's attempt upon her father's life seemed to justify the most extreme measures. She had plenty of time now to brood over her wrongs, and to concoct schemes of vengeance. Her father no longer required her care. He had passed from the frenzied ravings of insanity and delirium to the stupor of idiocy.
To speak plainly, even while we were in Montaignac, Monsieur Lacheneur's enemies succeeded in prejudicing my father against him." One would have sworn that he was speaking the truth, so persuasive was his voice, so entirely did the expression of his face, his glance, and his gestures accord with his words.
This knowledge is worth a fortune, my boy, if you are not a fool!" And he died, without being able to tell his family where he had concealed the price of Lacheneur's blood. Of all the persons who witnessed Baron d'Escorval's terrible fall, the abbe was the only one who did not despair. What a learned doctor would not have dared to do, he did. He was a priest; he had faith.
This last circumstance, which the baron was afterward doomed to recall in the midst of the most terrible scenes, did not strike him then. Lacheneur's house absorbed all his attention. His imagination pictured vividly the sufferings of this unfortunate man, who, only two days before, had relinquished the splendors of the Chateau de Sairmeuse to repair to this wretched abode.
"Those were her very words." "And still she loves you?" "I am sure of it." "You were not mistaken in Monsieur Lacheneur's tone when he said to you: 'Go, you little wretch! do you wish to render all my precautions useless?" "No." M. d'Escorval sat for a moment in silence. "This passes comprehension," he murmured at last.
The Duc de Sairmeuse held at M. Lacheneur's disposal any amount which it might please him to mention sixty, a hundred thousand francs, even more. But M. Lacheneur did not appear to be dazzled in the least; and when Martial had concluded, he replied, respectfully, but coldly, that he would consider the matter.
'I am betrothed to Monsieur Lacheneur's daughter; the affair is decided." This astounding news positively stunned Maurice. He was actually unable to think or to move. "Besides, he has been in love with her for a long time. Everyone knows that. One had only to see his eyes when he met her coals of fire were nothing to them. But while her father was so rich he did not dare to speak.
Though he died from lack of nourishment and exhaustion under a bush by the wayside, his emaciated body would still be worth twenty thousand francs. And the man who found his corpse would not give it burial. He would place it on his cart and bear it to Montaignac. He would go to the authorities and say: "Here is Lacheneur's body give me the reward!"
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