“Where is this fighting?” demanded Lacheneur eagerly; “and with whom?”

Chanlouineau gave a nervous laugh which resembled a roar of rage.

“They are not fighting,” he replied; “they are amusing themselves.  This firing which you hear is in honor of Monsieur le Duc de Sairmeuse.”

“Impossible!”

“I know it very well; and yet, what I have told you is the truth.  It is the work of that miserable wretch and thief, Chupin.  Ah, canaille!  If I ever find him within reach of my arm he will never steal again.”

M. Lacheneur was confounded.

“Tell us what has happened,” he said, excitedly.

“Oh, it is as clear as daylight.  When the duke arrived at Sairmeuse, Chupin, the old scoundrel, with his two rascally boys, and that old hag, his wife, ran after the carriage like beggars after a diligence, crying, ‘Vive Monsieur le Duc!’ The duke was enchanted, for he doubtless expected a volley of stones, and he placed a six-franc piece in the hand of each of the wretches.  This money gave Chupin an appetite for more, so he took it into his head to give this old noble a reception like that which was given to the Emperor.  Having learned through Bibiaine, whose tongue is as long as a viper’s, all that has passed at the presbytery, between you, Monsieur Lacheneur, and the duke, he came and proclaimed it in the market-place.  When they heard it, all who had purchased national lands were frightened.  Chupin had counted on this, and soon he began telling the poor fools that they must burn powder under the duke’s nose if they wished him to confirm their titles to their property.”

“And did they believe him?”

“Implicitly.  It did not take them long to make their preparations.  They went to the town hall and took the firemen’s rifles, and the guns used for firing a salute on fete days; the mayor gave them the powder, and you heard——­

“When I left Sairmeuse there were more than two hundred idiots before the presbytery, shouting: 

“Vive Monseigneur!  Vive le Duc de Sairmeuse!”

It was as d’Escorval had thought.

“The same pitiful farce that was played in Paris, only on a smaller scale,” he murmured.  “Avarice and human cowardice are the same the world over!”

Meanwhile, Chanlouineau was going on with his recital.

“To make the fete complete, the devil must have warned all the nobility in the neighborhood, for they all came running.  They say that Monsieur de Sairmeuse is a favorite with the King, and that he can get anything he wishes.  So you can imagine how they all greeted him!  I am only a poor peasant, but never would I lie down in the dust before any man as these old nobles who are so haughty with us, did before the duke.  They kissed his hands, and he allowed them to do it.  He walked about the square with the Marquis de Courtornieu——­”

“And his son?” interrupted Maurice.