the help of the game-keeper of Gondreville and others belonging to the estate, kept Malin informed of all Michu’s actions.  Malin had endeavored, fruitlessly, to win over Marianne, the Michus’ servant-woman; but Violette and his satellites heard everything from Gaucher,—­a lad on whose fidelity Michu relied, but who betrayed him for cast-off clothing, waistcoats, buckles, cotton socks and sugar-plums.  The boy had no suspicion of the importance of his gossip.  Violette in his reports blackened all Michu’s actions and gave them a criminal aspect by absurd suggestions,—­unknown, of course, to the bailiff, who was aware, however, of the base part played by the farmer, and took delight in mystifying him.

“You must have a deal of business at Bellache to be here again,” said Michu.

“Again! is that meant as a reproach, Monsieur Michu?—­Hey!  I did not know you had that gun.  You are not going to whistle for the sparrows on that pipe, I suppose—­”

“It grew in a field of mine which bears guns,” replied Michu.  “Look! this is how I sow them.”

The bailiff took aim at a viper thirty feet away and cut it in two.

“Have you got that bandit’s weapon to protect your master?” said Violette.  “Perhaps he gave it to you.”

“He came from Paris expressly to bring it to me,” replied Michu.

“People are talking all round the neighborhood of this journey of his; some say he is in disgrace and has to retire from office; others that he wants to see things for himself down here.  But anyway, why does he come, like the First Consul, without giving warning?  Did you know he was coming?”

“I am not on such terms with him as to be in his confidence.”

“Then you have not seen him?”

“I did not know he was here till I got back from my rounds in the forest,” said Michu, reloading his gun.

“He has sent to Arcis for Monsieur Grevin,” said Violette; “they are scheming something.”

“If you are going round by Cinq-Cygne, take me up behind you,” said the bailiff.  “I’m going there.”

Violette was too timid to have a man of Michu’s strength on his crupper, and he spurred his beast.  Judas slung his gun over his shoulder and walked rapidly up the avenue.

“Who can it be that Michu is angry with?” said Marthe to her mother.

“Ever since he heard of Monsieur Malin’s arrival he has been gloomy,” replied the old woman.  “But it is getting damp here, let us go in.”

After the two women had settled themselves in the chimney corner they heard Couraut’s bark.

“There’s my husband returning!” cried Marthe.

Michu passed up the stairs; his wife, uneasy, followed him to their bedroom.

“See if any one is about,” he said to her, in a voice of some emotion.

“No one,” she replied.  “Marianne is in the field with the cow, and Gaucher—­”

“Where is Gaucher?” he asked.