“What is that?” said Rouget, looking at his nephew in a stupid way.

“Don’t sign that power of attorney which they want of you before the third of December; put them off till then.  Your torturers only want it to enable them to sell the fifty thousand a year you have in the Funds, so that they may run off to Paris and pay for their wedding festivities out of your millions.”

“I am afraid so,” replied Rouget.

“Well, whatever they may say or do to you, put off giving that power of attorney until next week.”

“Yes; but when Flore talks to me she stirs my very soul, till I don’t know what I do.  I give you my word, when she looks at me in a certain way, her blue eyes seem like paradise, and I am no longer master of myself,—­especially when for some days she had been harsh to me.”

“Well, whether she is sweet or sour, don’t do more than promise to sign the paper, and let me know the night before you are going to do it.  That will answer.  Maxence shall not be your proxy unless he first kills me.  If I kill him, you must agree to take me in his place, and I’ll undertake to break in that handsome girl and keep her at your beck and call.  Yes, Flore shall love you, and if she doesn’t satisfy you—­thunder!  I’ll thrash her.”

“Oh!  I never could allow that.  A blow struck at Flore would break my heart.”

“But it is the only way to govern women and horses.  A man makes himself feared, or loved, or respected.  Now that is what I wanted to whisper in your ear—­Good-morning, gentlemen,” he said to Mignonnet and Carpentier, who came up at the moment; “I am taking my uncle for a walk, as you see, and trying to improve him; for we are in an age when children are obliged to educate their grandparents.”

They all bowed to each other.

“You behold in my dear uncle the effects of an unhappy passion.  Those two want to strip him of his fortune and leave him in the lurch—­you know to whom I refer?  He sees the plot; but he hasn’t the courage to give up his SUGAR-PLUM for a few days so as to baffle it.”

Philippe briefly explained his uncle’s position.

“Gentlemen,” he remarked, in conclusion, “you see there are no two ways of saving him:  either Colonel Bridau must kill Captain Gilet, or Captain Gilet must kill Colonel Bridau.  We celebrate the Emperor’s coronation on the day after to-morrow; I rely upon you to arrange the seats at the banquet so that I shall sit opposite to Gilet.  You will do me the honor, I hope, of being my seconds.”

“We will appoint you to preside, and sit ourselves on either side of you.  Max, as vice-president, will of course sit opposite,” said Mignonnet.

“Oh! the scoundrel will have Potel and Renard with him,” said Carpentier.  “In spite of all that Issoudun now knows and says of his midnight maraudings, those two worthy officers, who have already been his seconds, remain faithful to him.”