This farm is held by a man named Lorgelin, who cultivates it with the assistance of his wife and his two sons.

You will find these worthy people at dinner.

They will offer you some refreshment, and you will accept.

At the next word you utter you will find that they will glance at each other in a meaning manner, and the wife will exclaim, 'Blessed Virgin! Surely the gentleman is speaking of the poor lad we have so often talked about.'" As Mascarin went on describing his arrangements, his whole form seemed to dilate, and his face shone with the knowledge of mastery and power.
His voice was so clear and his manner so full of authority and command, that it carried conviction to the minds of all those who were seated listening to him.

He spoke of what would happen as if he was dealing with an absolute certainty, and went on with such wonderful lucidity and force of reasoning that they seemed to be absolutely real.
"Oh! the farmer's wife will say this, will she ?" demanded Catenac, in a tone of the utmost surprise.
"Yes, this, and nothing more.