Soudry, a handsome man dressed in blue, as though he were still a gendarme, with a black collar, and spurs at his heels, took Rigou by the arm and led him up to his imposing better-half.  The glass door to the terrace was open, and the guests were walking about enjoying the summer evening, which brought out the full beauty of the glorious landscape which we have already described.

“It is a long time since we have seen you, my dear Rigou,” said Madame Soudry, taking the arm of the ex-Benedictine and leading him out upon the terrace.

“My digestion is so troublesome!” he replied; “see! my color is almost as high as yours.”

Rigou’s appearance on the terrace was the sign for an explosion of jovial greetings on the part of the assembled company.

“And how may the lord of Blangy be?” said little Sarcus, justice of the peace.

“Lord!” replied Rigou, bitterly, “I am not even cock of my own village now.”

“The hens don’t say so, scamp!” exclaimed Madame Soudry, tapping her fan on his arm.

“All well, my dear master?” said the notary, bowing to his chief client.

“Pretty well,” replied Rigou, again putting his fore-finger into his interlocutor’s hand.

This gesture, by which Rigou kept down the process of hand-shaking to the coldest and stiffest of demonstrations would have revealed the whole man to any observer who did not already know him.

“Let us find a corner where we can talk quietly,” said the ex-monk, looking at Lupin and at Madame Soudry.

“Let us return to the salon,” replied the queen.

“What has the Shopman done now?” asked Soudry, sitting down beside his wife and putting his arm about her waist.

Madame Soudry, like other old women, forgave a great deal in return for such public marks of tenderness.

“Why,” said Rigou, in a low voice, to set an example of caution, “he has gone to the Prefecture to demand the enforcement of the penalties; he wants the help of the authorities.”

“Then he’s lost,” said Lupin, rubbing his hands; “the peasants will fight.”

“Fight!” cried Soudry, “that depends.  If the prefect and the general, who are friends, send a squadron of cavalry the peasants can’t fight.  They might at a pinch get the better of the gendarmes, but as for resisting a charge of cavalry!—­”

“Sibilet heard him say something much more dangerous than that,” said Rigou; “and that’s what brings me here.”

“Oh, my poor Sophie!” cried Madame Soudry, sentimentally, alluding to her friend, Mademoiselle Laguerre, “into what hands Les Aigues has fallen!  This is what we have gained by the Revolution!—­a parcel of swaggering epaulets!  We might have foreseen that whenever the bottle was turned upside down the dregs would spoil the wine!”

“He means to go to Paris and cabal with the Keeper of the Seals and others to get the whole judiciary changed down here,” said Rigou.