Imagine the men fooling one to another; imagine how their hearts

bounded, how their colour came and went. It was a coffer, and in
Franchard the place of buried treasure! They tore it open like

famished beasts. Alas! it was not the treasure; only some priestly
robes, which, at the touch of the eating air, fell upon themselves

and instantly wasted into dust. The perspiration of these good
fellows turned cold upon them, Jean-Marie. I will pledge my

reputation, if there was anything like a cutting wind, one or other
had a pneumonia for his trouble.'

'I should like to have seen them turning into dust,' said Jean-
Marie. 'Otherwise, I should not have cared so greatly.'

'You have no imagination,' cried the Doctor. 'Picture to yourself
the scene. Dwell on the idea - a great treasure lying in the earth

for centuries: the material for a giddy, copious, opulent existence
not employed; dresses and exquisite pictures unseen; the swiftest

galloping horses not stirring a hoof, arrested by a spell; women
with the beautiful faculty of smiles, not smiling; cards, dice,

opera singing, orchestras, castles, beautiful parks and gardens,
big ships with a tower of sailcloth, all lying unborn in a coffin -

and the stupid trees growing overhead in the sunlight, year after
year. The thought drives one frantic.'

'It is only money,' replied Jean-Marie. 'It would do harm.'
'O, come!' cried Desprez, 'that is philosophy; it is all very fine,

but not to the point just now. And besides, it is not "only
money," as you call it; there are works of art in the question; the

vessels were carved. You speak like a child. You weary me
exceedingly, quoting my words out of all logicalconnection, like a

parroquet.'
'And at any rate, we have nothing to do with it,' returned the boy

submissively.
They struck the Route Ronde at that moment; and the sudden change

to the rattling causeway combined, with the Doctor's irritation, to
keep him silent. The noddy jigged along; the trees went by,

looking on silently, as if they had something on their minds. The
Quadrilateral was passed; then came Franchard. They put up the

horse at the little solitary inn, and went forth strolling. The
gorge was dyed deeply with heather; the rocks and birches standing

luminous in the sun. A great humming of bees about the flowers
disposed Jean-Marie to sleep, and he sat down against a clump of

heather, while the Doctor went briskly to and fro, with quick
turns, culling his simples.

The boy's head had fallen a little forward, his eyes were closed,
his fingers had fallen lax about his knees, when a sudden cry

called him to his feet. It was a strange sound, thin and brief; it
fell dead, and silence returned as though it had never been

interrupted. He had not recognised the Doctor's voice; but, as
there was no one else in all the valley, it was plainly the Doctor

who had given utterance to the sound. He looked right and left,
and there was Desprez, standing in a niche between two boulders,

and looking round on his adopted son with a countenance as white as
paper.

'A viper!' cried Jean-Marie, running towards him. 'A viper! You
are bitten!'

The Doctor came down heavily out of the cleft, and, advanced in
silence to meet the boy, whom he took roughly by the shoulder.

'I have found it,' he said, with a gasp.
'A plant?' asked Jean-Marie.

Desprez had a fit of unnaturalgaiety, which the rocks took up and
mimicked. 'A plant!' he repeated scornfully. 'Well - yes - a

plant. And here,' he added suddenly, showing his right hand, which
he had hitherto concealed behind his back - 'here is one of the

bulbs.'
Jean-Marie saw a dirty platter, coated with earth.

'That?' said he. 'It is a plate!'
'It is a coach and horses,' cried the Doctor. 'Boy,' he continued,

growing warmer, 'I plucked away a great pad of moss from between
these boulders, and disclosed a crevice; and when I looked in, what

do you suppose I saw? I saw a house in Paris with a court and
garden, I saw my wife shining with diamonds, I saw myself a deputy,

I saw you - well, I - I saw your future,' he concluded, rather
feebly. 'I have just discovered America,' he added.

'But what is it?' asked the boy.
'The Treasure of Franchard,' cried the Doctor; and, throwing his

brown straw hat upon the ground, he whooped like an Indian and
sprang upon Jean-Marie, whom he suffocated with embraces and

bedewed with tears. Then he flung himself down among the heather
and once more laughed until the valley rang.

But the boy had now an interest of his own, a boy's interest. No
sooner was he released from the Doctor's accolade than he ran to

the boulders, sprang into the niche, and, thrusting his hand into
the crevice, drew forth one after another, encrusted with the earth

of ages, the flagons, candlesticks, and patens of the hermitage of
Franchard. A casket came last, tightly shut and very heavy.

'O what fun!' he cried.
But when he looked back at the Doctor, who had followed close

behind and was silently observing, the words died from his lips.
Desprez was once more the colour of ashes; his lip worked and

trembled; a sort of bestial greed possessed him.
'This is childish,' he said. 'We lose precious time. Back to the

inn, harness the trap, and bring it to yon bank. Run for your
life, and remember - not one whisper. I stay here to watch.'

Jean-Marie did as he was bid, though not without surprise. The
noddy was brought round to the spot indicated; and the two

gradually transported the treasure from its place of concealment to
the boot below the driving seat. Once it was all stored the Doctor

recovered his gaiety.
'I pay my grateful duties to the genius of this dell,' he said.

'O, for a live coal, a heifer, and a jar of country wine! I am in
the vein for sacrifice, for a superb libation. Well, and why not?

We are at Franchard. English pale ale is to be had - not
classical, indeed, but excellent. Boy, we shall drink ale.'

'But I thought it was so unwholesome,' said Jean-Marie, 'and very
dear besides.'

'Fiddle-de-dee!' exclaimed the Doctor gaily. 'To the inn!'
And he stepped into the noddy, tossing his head, with an elastic,

youthful air. The horse was turned, and in a few seconds they drew
up beside the palings of the inn garden.

'Here,' said Desprez - 'here, near the table, so that we may keep
an eye upon things.'

They tied the horse, and entered the garden, the Doctor singing,
now in fantastic high notes, now producing deep reverberations from

his chest. He took a seat, rapped loudly on the table, assailed
the waiter with witticisms; and when the bottle of Bass was at

length produced, far more charged with gas than the most delirious
champagne, he filled out a long glassful of froth and pushed it

over to Jean-Marie. 'Drink,' he said; 'drink deep.'
'I would rather not,' faltered the boy, true to his training.

'What?' thundered Desprez.
'I am afraid of it,' said Jean-Marie: 'my stomach - '

'Take it or leave it,' interrupted Desprez fiercely; 'but
understand it once for all - there is nothing so contemptible as a

precisian.'
Here was a new lesson! The boy sat bemused, looking at the glass

but not tasting it, while the Doctor emptied and refilled his own,
at first with clouded brow, but gradually yielding to the sun, the

heady, prickling beverage, and his own predisposition to be happy.
'Once in a way,' he said at last, by way of a concession to the

boy's more rigorous attitude, 'once in a way, and at so critical a
moment, this ale is a nectar for the gods. The habit, indeed, is

debasing; wine, the juice of the grape, is the true drink of the
Frenchman, as I have often had occasion to point out; and I do not

know that I can blame you for refusing this outlandish stimulant.
You can have some wine and cakes. Is the bottle empty? Well, we

will not be proud; we will have pity on your glass.'
The beer being done, the Doctor chafed bitterly while Jean-Marie

finished his cakes. 'I burn to be gone,' he said, looking at his