Ursula

soul for a little money."
    "Restitution of what?"
    "The fortune the doctor intended for Ursula. You took those three certificates—I know it now. You began by persecuting that poor girl, and you end by offering her a fortune; you have stumbled into lies, you have tangled yourself up in this net, and you are taking false steps every day. You are very clumsy and unskilful; your accomplice Goupil has served you ill; he simply laughs at you. Make haste and clear your mind, for you are watched by intelligent and penetrating eyes,—those of Ursula's friends. Make restitution! and if you do not save your son (who may not really be threatened), you will save your soul, and you will save your honor. Do you believe that in a society like ours, in a little town like this, where everybody's eyes are everywhere, and all things are guessed and all things are known, you can long hide a stolen fortune? Come, my son, an innocent man wouldn't have let me talk so long."
    "Go to the devil!" cried Minoret. "I don't know what you all mean by persecuting me. I prefer these stones—they leave me in peace."
    "Farewell, then; I have warned you. Neither the poor girl nor I have said a single word about this to any living person. But take care—there is a man who has his eye upon you. May God have pity upon you!"
    The abbe departed; presently he turned back to look at Minoret. The man was holding his head in his hands as if it troubled him; he was, in fact, partly crazy. In the first place, he had kept the three certificates because he did not know what to do with them. He dared not draw the money himself for fear it should be noticed; he did not wish to sell them, and was still trying to find some way of transferring the certificates. In this horrible state of uncertainty he bethought him of acknowledging all to his wife and getting her advice. Zelie, who always managed affairs for him so well, she could get him out of his troubles. The three-per-cent Funds were now selling at eighty. Restitution! why, that meant, with arrearages, giving up a million! Give up a million, when there was no one who could know that he had taken it—!
    So Minoret continued through September and a part of October irresolute and a prey to his torturing thoughts. To the great surprise of the little town he grew thin and haggard.

CHAPTER XX. REMORSE
    An alarming circumstance hastened the confession which Minoret was inclined to make to Zelie; the sword of Damocles began to move above their heads. Towards the middle of October Monsieur and Madame Minoret received from their son Desire the following letter:—
      My dear Mother,—If I have not been to see you since vacation, it
  is partly because I have been on duty during the absence of my
  chief, but also because I knew that Monsieur de Portenduere was
  waiting my arrival at Nemours, to pick a quarrel with me. Tired,
  perhaps, of seeing his vengeance on our family delayed, the
  viscount came to Fontainebleau, where he had appointed one of his
  Parisian friends to meet him, having already obtained the help of
  the Vicomte de Soulanges commanding the troop of cavalry here in
  garrison.

  He called upon me, very politely, accompanied by the two
  gentlemen, and told me that my father was undoubtedly the
  instigator of the malignant persecutions against Ursula Mirouet,
  his future wife; he gave me proofs, and told me of Goupil's
  confession before witnesses. He also told me of my father's
  conduct, first in refusing to pay Goupil the price agreed on for
  his wicked invention, and next, out of fear of Goupil's malignity,
  going security to Monsieur Dionis for the price of his practice
  which Goupil is to have.

  The viscount, not being able to fight a man sixty-seven years of
  age, and being determined to have satisfaction for the insults
  offered to Ursula, demanded it formally of me. His determination,
  having been well-weighed and considered, could not be shaken. If I
  refused, he was resolved to meet me in society before persons
  whose esteem I value, and insult me openly. In France, a coward is
  unanimously scorned. Besides, the motives for demanding reparation
  should be explained by honorable men. He said he was sorry to
  resort to such extremities. His seconds declared it would be wiser
  in me to arrange a meeting in the usual manner among men of honor,
  so that Ursula Mirouet might not be known as the cause of the
  quarrel; to avoid all scandal it was