Lacheneur had sufficed to make him forget his usual deference to his father's wishes.
"This evening," she had said, "I shall certainly know your heart." What could this mean?
Could she doubt him?
Tortured by the most cruel anxieties, the poor youth could not resolve to go away without an explanation, and he hung around the chateau hoping that Marie-Anne would reappear.
She did reappear at last, but leaning upon the arm of her father.
Young d'Escorval followed them at a distance, and soon saw them enter the parsonage.

What were they going to do there?
He knew that the duke and his son were within.
The time that they remained there, and which he passed in the public square, seemed more than a century long.
They emerged at last, however, and he was about to join them when he was prevented by the appearance of Martial, whose promises he overheard.
Maurice knew nothing of life; he was as innocent as a child, but he could not mistake the intentions that dictated this step on the part of the Marquis de Sairmeuse.
At the thought that a libertine's caprice should dare rest for an instant upon the pure and beautiful girl whom he loved with all the strength of his being--whom he had sworn should be his wife--all his blood mounted madly to his brain.
He felt a wild longing to chastise the insolent wretch.
Fortunately--unfortunately, perhaps--his hand was arrested by the recollection of a phrase which he had heard his father repeat a thousand times: "Calmness and irony are the only weapons worthy of the strong." And he possessed sufficient strength of will to appear calm, while, in reality, he was beside himself with passion.

It was Martial who lost his self-control, and who threatened him.
"Ah! yes, I will find you again, upstart!" repeated Maurice, through his set teeth as he watched his enemy move away.
For Martial had turned and discovered that Marie-Anne and her father had left him.

He saw them standing about a hundred paces from him.

Although he was surprised at their indifference, he made haste to join them, and addressed M.Lacheneur.
"We are just going to your father's house," was the response he received, in an almost ferocious tone.
A glance from Marie-Anne commanded silence.