vain; he was so embarrassed by the child in his arms, that he could not
find it.

"What the devil are you doing with that child?" asked De Loignac.

"He is my son, monsieur."

"Well; put your son down. You are married, then?"---"Yes, monsieur."

"At twenty?"

"They marry young among us; you ought to know that, M. de Loignac, who
were married at eighteen."

"Oh!" thought De Loignac, "here is another who knows me."

"And why should he not be married?" cried the woman advancing. "Yes,
monsieur, he is married, and here are two other children who call him
father, besides this great lad behind. Advance, Militor, and bow to M.
de Loignac."

A lad of sixteen, vigorous and agile, with an incipient mustache,
stepped forward.

"They are my wife's sons, monsieur."

"In Heaven's name, your card!" cried De Loignac.

"Lardille!" cried the Gascon to his wife, "come and help me."