CHAPTER XIII.
The Chateau de Courtornieu is, next to Sairmeuse, the most magnificent habitation in the _arrondissement_ of Montaignac.
The approach to the castle was by a long and narrow road, badly paved.
When the carriage containing Martial and his father turned from the public highway into this rough road, the jolting aroused the duke from the profound revery into which he had fallen on leaving Sairmeuse.
The marquis thought that he had caused this unusual fit of abstraction.
"It is the result of my adroit manoeuvre," he said to himself, not without secret satisfaction.

"Until the restitution of Sairmeuse is legalized, I can make my father do anything I wish; yes, anything.

And if it is necessary, he will even invite Lacheneur and Marie-Anne to his table." He was mistaken.

The duke had already forgotten the affair; his most vivid impressions lasted no longer than an indentation in the sand.
He lowered the glass in front of the carriage, and, after ordering the coachman to drive more slowly: "Now," said he to his son, "let us talk a little.

Are you really in love with that little Lacheneur ?" Martial could not repress a start.