At the words “betray me,” the young woman made a gesture of horror and disgust.

“We betray you, sir!” said she.  “Ah! you do not know the Antoines!  Enter our house, and lie down upon the bed while I prepare some refreshments for you.  When my husband comes home, we will see what can be done.”

It was nearly sunset when the master of the house, a robust mountaineer, with a frank face, returned.

On beholding the stranger seated at his fireside he turned frightfully pale.

“Unfortunate woman!” he whispered to his wife, “do you not know that any man who shelters this fugitive will be shot, and his house levelled to the ground?”

Lacheneur rose with a shudder.

He had not known this.  He knew the infamous reward which had been promised to his betrayer; but he had not known the danger his presence brought upon these worthy people.  “I will go at once, sir,” said he, gently.

But the peasant placed his large hand kindly upon his guest’s shoulder, and forced him to resume his seat.

“It was not to drive you away that I said what I did,” he remarked.  “You are at home, and you shall remain here until I can find some means of insuring your safety.”

The pretty peasant woman flung her arms about her husband’s neck, and in tones of the most ardent affection exclaimed:  “Ah! you are a noble man, Antoine.”

He smiled, embraced her tenderly, then, pointing to the open door: 

“Watch!” he said.  “I feel it my duty to tell you, sir, that it will not be easy to save you,” resumed the honest peasant.  “The promises of reward have set all evil-minded people on the alert.  They know that you are in the neighborhood.  A rascally innkeeper has crossed the frontier for the express purpose of betraying your whereabouts to the French gendarmes.”

“Balstain?”

“Yes, Balstain; and he is hunting for you now.  That is not all.  As I passed through Saint-Pavin, on my return, I saw eight mounted soldiers, guided by a peasant, also on horseback.  They declared that they knew you were concealed in the village, and they were going to search every house.”

These soldiers were none other than the Montaignac chasseurs, placed at Chupin’s disposal by the Duc de Sairmeuse.

It was indeed as Antoine had said.

The task was certainly not at all to their taste, but they were closely watched by the lieutenant in command, who hoped to receive some substantial reward if the expedition was crowned with success.  Antoine, meanwhile, continued his exposition of his hopes and fears.

“Wounded and exhausted as you are,” he was saying to Lacheneur, “you will be in no condition to make a long march in less than a fortnight.  Until then you must conceal yourself.  Fortunately, I know a safe retreat in the mountain, not far from here.  I will take you there to-night, with provisions enough to last you for a week.”