Although the latter saw the heir of the de Buxieres family approaching, he continued driving in the nails without appearing to notice his presence.
"Monsieur Claudet," said Julien, "can you spare me a few minutes?
I should like to talk to you." Claudet raised his head, hesitated for a moment, then, throwing away his hammer and putting on his loose jacket, muttered: "I am at your service." They left the outhouse together, and entered an avenue of leafy lime-trees, which skirted the banks of the stream.
"Monsieur," said Julien, stopping in the middle of the walk, "excuse me if I venture on a delicate subject--but I must do so--now that I know all." "Beg pardon--what do you know ?" demanded Claudet, reddening.
"I know that you are the son of my cousin de Buxieres," replied the young man with considerable emotion.
The 'grand chasserot' knitted his brows.
"Ah!" said he, bitterly, "my mother's tongue has been too long, or else that blind magpie of a notary has been gossiping, notwithstanding my instructions." "No; neither your mother nor Maitre Arbillot has been speaking to me.
What I know I have learned from a stranger, and I know also that you would be master here if Claude de Buxieres had taken the precaution to write out his will.

His negligence on that point has been a wrong to you, which it is my duty to repair." "What's that!" exclaimed Claudet.

Then he muttered between his teeth: "You owe me nothing.

The law is on your side." "I am not in the habit of consulting the law when it is a question of duty.

Besides, Monsieur de Buxieres treated you openly as his son; if he had done what he ought, made a legal acknowledgment, you would have the right, even in default of a will, to one half of his patrimony.