"We are to be married, Monsieur Darrel," she laughed.
"Ah! Since when has Jean Marie Tregunc lost his head?"
"His head? Oh, Monsieur Darrel—his heart, you mean!"
"So I do," said I. "Jean Marie is a practical fellow."
"It is all due to your kindness" began the girl, but I raised my hand and held up the glass.
"It's due to himself. To your happiness, Marianne;" and I took a hearty draught of the schist. "Now," said I, "tell me where I can find Le Bihan and Max Fortin."
"Monsieur Le Bihan and Monsieur Fortin are above in the broad room. I believe they are examining the Red Admiral's effects."
"To send them to Paris? Oh, I know. May I go up, Marianne?"
"And God go with you," smiled the girl.
"When I knocked at the door of the broad room above little Max Fortin opened it. Dust covered his spectacles and nose; his hat, with the tiny velvet ribbons fluttering, was all awry.
"Come in, Monsieur Darrel," he said; "the mayor and I are packing up the effects of the Purple Emperor and of the poor Red Admiral."
"The collections?" I asked, entering the room. "You must be very careful in packing
