“Will you sign that agreement?” said Soudry.

“A written agreement is worth nothing,” replied Gaubertin.  “Besides, you know I am playing above board; I have perfect confidence in Rigou, and he shall be the purchaser.”

“That will satisfy me,” said Rigou.

“I will make only one condition,” added Gaubertin.  “I must have the pavilion of the Rendezvous, with all its appurtenances, and fifty acres of the surrounding land.  I shall make it my country-house, and it shall be near my woods.  Madame Gaubertin—­Madame Isaure, for that’s what she wants people to call her—­says she shall make it her villa.”

“I’m willing,” said Rigou.

“Well, now, between ourselves,” continued Gaubertin, after looking about him on all sides and making sure that no one could overhear him, “do you think they are capable of striking a blow?”

“Such as?” asked Rigou, who never allowed himself to understand a hint.

“Well, if the worst of the band, the best shot, sent a ball whistling round the ears of the count—­just to frighten him?”

“He’s a man to rush at an assailant and collar him.”

“Michaud, then.”

“Michaud would do nothing at the moment, but he’d watch and spy till he found out the man and those who instigated him.”

“You are right,” said Gaubertin; “those peasants must make a riot and a few must be sent to the galleys.  Well, so much the better for us; the authorities will catch the worst, whom we shall want to get rid of after they’ve done the work.  There are those blackguards, the Tonsards and Bonnebault—­”

“Tonsard is ready for mischief,” said Soudry, “I know that; and we’ll work him up by Vaudoyer and Courtecuisse.”

“I’ll answer for Courtecuisse,” said Rigou.

“And I hold Vaudoyer in the hollow of my hand.”

“Be cautious!” said Rigou; “before everything else be cautious.”

“Now, papa skull-cap, do you mean to tell me that there’s any harm in speaking of things as they are?  Is it we who are indicting and arresting, or gleaning or depredating?  If Monsieur le comte knows what he’s about and leases the woods to the receiver-general it is all up with our schemes,—­’Farewell baskets, the vintage is o’er’; in that case you will lose more than I. What we say here is between ourselves and for ourselves; for I certainly wouldn’t say a word to Vaudoyer that I couldn’t repeat to God and man.  But it is not forbidden, I suppose, to profit by any events that may take place.  The peasantry of this canton are hot-headed; the general’s exactions, his severity, Michaud’s persecutions, and those of his keepers have exasperated them; to-day things have come to a crisis and I’ll bet there’s a rumpus going on now with the gendarmerie.  And so, let’s go and breakfast.”