“That is what I call an ugly castle!  It is hardly as good as our common country houses around Marseilles.”

The stranger turned quickly around and found himself face to face with a man wearing a gray cap and carrying his coat upon his shoulder, as workmen do in the South.  He held in his hand a knotty stick which had been recently cut.  The newcomer had a swarthy complexion, harsh features, and deep-set eyes which gave his face an ugly, false expression.

“I said an ugly castle,” continued he.  “However, the cage is made for the bird.”

“It seems, then, that you do not like its master?” said the traveller.

“The master!” repeated the workman, seizing hold of his stick with a threatening air, “Monsieur le Baron de Bergenheim, as they say!  He is rich and a nobleman, and I am only a poor carpenter.  Well, then, if you stay here a few days, you will witness a comical ceremony; I shall make this brigand repent.”

“Brigand!” exclaimed the stranger, in a surprised tone.  “What has he done to you?”

“Yes, brigand! you may tell him so from me.  But, by the way,” continued the workman, surveying his companion from head to foot with a searching, defiant air, “do you happen to be the carpenter who is coming from Strasbourg?  In that case, I have a few words to say to you.  Lambernier does not allow any one to take the bread out of his mouth in that way; do you understand?”

The young man seemed very little moved by this declaration.

“I am not a carpenter,” said he, smiling, “and I have no wish for your work.”

“Truly, you do not look as if you had pushed a plane very often.  It seems that in your business one does not spoil one’s hands.  You are a workman about as much as I am pope.”

This remark made the one to whom it was addressed feel in as bad a humor as an author does when he finds a grammatical error in one of his books.

“So you work at the chateau, then,” said he, finally, to change the conversation.

“For six months I have worked in that shanty,” replied the workman; “I am the one who carved the new woodwork, and I will say it is well done.  Well, this great wild boar of a Bergenheim turned me out of the house yesterday as if I had been one of his dogs.”

“He doubtless had his reasons.”

“I tell you, I will crush him—­reasons!  Damn it!  They told him I talked too often with his wife’s maid and quarrelled with the servants, a pack of idlers!  Did he not forbid my putting my foot upon his land?  I am upon his land now; let him come and chase me off; let him come, he will see how I shall receive him.  Do you see this stick?  I have just cut it in his own woods to use it on himself!”