Bergenheim soon found out that he had calculated correctly when he heard a sound like that made by a wild boar when he rushes through the thickets and breaks the small branches in his path, as if they were no more than blades of grass.  Soon Lambernier appeared with a haggard, wild look and a face bleeding from the blows he had received.  He stopped for a moment to catch his breath and to wipe off his compass with a handful of grass; he then staunched the blood streaming from his nose and mouth, and after putting on his coat started rapidly in the direction of the river.

“Halt!” exclaimed the Baron, suddenly, rising before him and barring his passage.

The workman jumped back in terror; then he drew out his compass a second time and made a movement as if to throw himself upon this new adversary, out of sheer desperation.  Christian, at this threatening pantomime, raised his gun to his cheek with as much coolness and precision as he would have shown at firing into a body of soldiers.

“Down with your weapon!” he exclaimed, in his commanding voice, “or I will shoot you down like a rabbit.”

The carpenter uttered a hoarse cry as he saw the muzzle of the gun within an inch of his head, ready to blow his brains out.  Feeling assured that there was no escape for him, he closed his compass and threw it with an angry gesture at the Baron’s feet.

“Now,” said the latter, “you will walk straight ahead of me as far as the chateau, and if you turn one step to the right or left, I will send the contents of my gun into you.  So right about march!”

As he said these words, he stooped, without losing sight of the workman, and picked up the compass, which he put in his pocket.

“Monsieur le Baron, it was the coachman who attacked me first; I had to defend myself,” stammered Lambernier.

“All right, we will see about that later.  March on!”

“You will deliver me up to the police—­I am a ruined man!”

“That will make one rascal the less,” exclaimed Christian, repelling with disgust the workman, who had thrown himself on his knees before him.

“I have three children, Monsieur, three children,” he repeated, in a supplicating tone.

“Will you march!” replied Bergenheim imperiously, as he made a gesture with his gun as if to shoot him.

Lambernier arose suddenly, and the expression of terror upon his countenance gave place to one of resolution mingled with hatred and scorn.

“Very well,” he exclaimed, “let us go on! but remember what I tell you; if you have me arrested, you will be the first to repent of it, Baron though you are.  If I appear before a judge, I will tell something that you would pay a good price for.”

Bergenheim looked fixedly at Lambernier.

“What do you mean by such insolence?” said he.

“I will tell you what I mean, if you will promise to let me go; if you give me into the hands of the police, I repeat it, you will repent not having listened to me to-day.”