At this moment, a lad from the faubourg de Rome came to the Hochon house with a letter for Baruch.  The two grandsons, much subdued by the events of the morning, had kept their rooms of their own accord during the day.  Thinking over their prospects, they saw plainly that they had better be cautious with their grandparents.  Baruch knew very well the influence which his grandfather Hochon exerted over his grandfather and grandmother Borniche:  Monsieur Hochon would not hesitate to get their property for Adolphine if his conduct were such as to make them pin their hopes on the grand marriage with which his grandfather had threatened him that morning.  Being richer than Francois, Baruch had the most to lose; he therefore counselled an absolute surrender, with no other condition than the payment of their debt to Max.  As for Francois, his future was entirely in the hands of his grandfather; he had no expectations except from him, and by the guardianship account, he was now his debtor.  The two young men accordingly gave solemn promises of amendment, prompted by their imperilled interests, and by the hope Madame Hochon held out, that the debt to Max should be paid.

“You have done very wrong,” she said to them; “repair it by future good conduct, and Monsieur Hochon will forget it.”

So, when Francois had read the letter which had been brought for Baruch, over the latter’s shoulder, he whispered in his ear, “Ask grandpapa’s advice.”

“Read this,” said Baruch, taking the letter to old Hochon.

“Read it to me yourself; I haven’t my spectacles.”

My dear Friend,—­I hope you will not hesitate, under the serious circumstances in which I find myself, to do me the service of receiving a power of attorney from Monsieur Rouget.  Be at Vatan to-morrow morning at nine o’clock.  I shall probably send you to Paris, but don’t be uneasy; I will furnish you with money for the journey, and join you there immediately.  I am almost sure I shall be obliged to leave Issoudun, December third.

  Adieu.  I count on your friendship; rely on that of your friend,

  Maxence

“God be praised!” exclaimed Monsieur Hochon; “the property of that old idiot is saved from the claws of the devil.”

“It will be if you say so,” said Madame Hochon; “and I thank God,—­who has no doubt heard my prayers.  The prosperity of the wicked is always fleeting.”

“You must go to Vatan, and accept the power of attorney from Monsieur Rouget,” said the old man to Baruch.  “Their object is to get fifty thousand francs a year transferred to Mademoiselle Brazier.  They will send you to Paris, and you must seem to go; but you are to stop at Orleans, and wait there till you hear from me.  Let no one—­not a soul —­know where you lodge; go to the first inn you come to in the faubourg Bannier, no matter if it is only a post-house—­”

“Look here!” cried Francois, who had rushed to the window at the sudden noise of wheels in the Grande-Narette.  “Here’s something new!  —­Pere Rouget and Colonel Bridau coming back together in the caleche, Benjamin and Captain Carpentier following on horseback!”