“Madame,” said Flore, “we know how unjust your father was to you.  Monsieur, here, can tell you,” she went on, looking fixedly at her victim, “that the only quarrels we have ever had were about you.  I have always told him that he owes you part of the fortune he received from his father, and your father, my benefactor,—­for he was my benefactor,” she added in a tearful voice; “I shall ever remember him!  But your brother, madame, has listened to reason—­”

“Yes,” said the old man, “when I make my will you shall not be forgotten.”

“Don’t talk of these things, my dear brother; you do not yet know my nature.”

After such a beginning, it is easy to imagine how the visit went on.  Rouget invited his sister to dinner on the next day but one.

We may here mention that during these three days the Knights of Idleness captured an immense quantity of rats and mice, which were kept half-famished until they were let loose in the grain one fine night, to the number of four hundred and thirty-six, of which some were breeding mothers.  Not content with providing Fario’s store-house with these boarders, the Knights made holes in the roof of the old church and put in a dozen pigeons, taken from as many different farms.  These four-footed and feathered creatures held high revels,—­all the more securely because the watchman was enticed away by a fellow who kept him drunk from morning till night, so that he took no care of his master’s property.

Madame Bridau believed, contrary to the opinion of old Hochon, that her brother has as yet made no will; she intended asking him what were his intentions respecting Mademoiselle Brazier, as soon as she could take a walk with him alone,—­a hope which Flore and Maxence were always holding out to her, and, of course, always disappointing.

Meantime the Knights were searching for a way to put the Parisians to flight, and finding none that were not impracticable follies.

At the end of a week—­half the time the Parisians were to stay in Issoudun—­the Bridaus were no farther advanced in their object than when they came.

“Your lawyer does not understand the provinces,” said old Hochon to Madame Bridau.  “What you have come to do can’t be done in two weeks, nor in two years; you ought never to leave your brother, but live here and try to give him some ideas of religion.  You cannot countermine the fortifications of Flore and Maxence without getting a priest to sap them.  That is my advice, and it is high time to set about it.”

“You certainly have very singular ideas about the clergy,” said Madame Hochon to her husband.

“Bah!” exclaimed the old man, “that’s just like you pious women.”

“God would never bless an enterprise undertaken in a sacrilegious spirit,” said Madame Bridau.  “Use religion for such a purpose!  Why, we should be more criminal than Flore.”

This conversation took place at breakfast,—­Francois and Baruch listening with all their ears.