“My papa wants to know what he’s to do with the corporal, who ain’t doing well,” said Francois.

“What’s the matter with him?” asked Peyrade.

“It’s his head—­he pitched down hard on the ground,” replied the boy.  “For a gindarme who knows how to ride it was bad luck—­I suppose the horse stumbled.  He’s got a hole—­my! as big as your fist—­in the back of his head.  Seems as if he must have hit some big stone, poor man!  He may be a gindarme, but he suffers all the same—­you’d pity him.”

The captain of the gendarmerie now arrived and dismounted in the courtyard.  Corentin threw up the window, not to lose time.

“What has been done?”

“We are back like the Dutchmen!  We found nothing but five dead horses, their coats stiff with sweat, in the middle of the forest.  I have kept them to find out where they came from and who owns them.  The forest is surrounded; whoever is in it can’t get out.”

“At what hour do you suppose those horsemen entered the forest?”

“About half-past twelve.”

“Don’t let a hare leave that forest without your seeing it,” whispered Corentin.  “I’ll station Peyrade at the village to help you; I am going to see the corporal myself—­Go to the mayor’s house,” he added, still whispering, to Peyrade.  “I’ll send some able man to relieve you.  We shall have to make use of the country-people; examine all faces.”  He turned towards the family and said in a threatening tone, “Au revoir!”

No one replied, and the two agents left the room.

“What would Fouche say if he knew we had made a domiciliary visit without getting any results?” remarked Peyrade as he helped Corentin into the osier vehicle.

“It isn’t over yet,” replied the other, “those four young men are in the forest.  Look there!” and he pointed to Laurence who was watching them from a window.  “I once revenged myself on a woman who was worth a dozen of that one and had stirred my bile a good deal less.  If this girl comes in the way of my hatchet I’ll pay her for the lash of that whip.”

“The other was a strumpet,” said Peyrade; “this one has rank.”

“What difference is that to me?  All’s fish that swims in the sea,” replied Corentin, signing to the gendarme who drove him to whip up.

Ten minutes later the chateau de Cinq-Cygne was completely evacuated.

“How did they get rid of the corporal?” said Laurence to Francois Michu, whom she had ordered to sit down and eat some breakfast.

“My father told me it was a matter of life and death and I mustn’t let anybody get into our house,” replied the boy.  “I knew when I heard the horses in the forest that I’d got to do with them hounds of gindarmes, and I meant to keep ’em from getting in.  So I took some big ropes that were in my garret and fastened one of ’em to a tree at the corner of the road.  Then I drew the rope high enough to hit the breast of a man on horseback, and tied it to the tree on the opposite side of the way in the direction where I heard the horses.  That barred the road.  It didn’t miss fire, I can tell you!  There was no moon, and the corporal just pitched!—­but he wasn’t killed; they’re tough, them gindarmes!  I did what I could.”