“See that the sentries are on the alert, Mieville,” he said as he got up from the fire round which he and the three officers were sitting; “you must remember that these poor fellows are desperate.  Of course you and I know that they can do themselves no good by attacking castles and burning chateaux, but were we in their place —­ famished, despairing, and ignorant —­ we should doubtless do the same.  And although, with men as well disciplined as ours, there would be little chance of the peasants overpowering us, they may trust in their numbers, and would believe that if they could destroy us, the whole country might well rise and join them.  Should there be any sign of trouble, call me instantly.”

Two sentries had been placed at the door of the outhouse, and as he entered Hector said, “Keep good watch, men, and if you hear any noise that might betoken the approach of a body of men, warn me at once.”

“I heard what you said to the sentries, Colonel Campbell; do you think that there is any danger?”

“No danger, I trust, madam, for I am convinced that we could beat off any number.  Still, I do think that there is a possibility of our being attacked.  The peasants know that we are but a company.  They may send to all the villages round and call on them to come and revenge those who have been slain.  The people of the hills are strong fellows —­ wood cutters, charcoal burners, and shepherds —­ and there can be no doubt that they suffer terribly from the enormous taxation.  I have seen it on my own estate in Poitou, and can make every allowance for them.  In many cases the amounts they are adjudged to pay are absolutely greater than their whole income.  They are forced to live upon bread made of bran and sawdust, to eat acorns and beechnuts; they are gaunt with hunger; they see their children dying before their eyes.  They know not how their sufferings arise, they only know that they suffer, and in their despair they turn like hungry wolves against all who are better off than themselves.”

“And your people, are they suffering as much as these, monsieur?”

“Not quite so much, perhaps, but they are suffering.  I have spent but a fortnight on my estates, of which I have only been master for a year.”

“And could you do nothing for them, monsieur?” the girl asked.

“I did what I could, mademoiselle.  I remitted half their rents, which was in fact but a small thing, seeing that I knew positively they could not have paid them.  Still it was no doubt some alleviation to know that the arrears were not being piled up against them.  As to the other half, I told my intendant not to press any whom he thought could not pay, and that if he drew enough to pay his own salary and the wages of the retainers I should be content —­ for my pay as colonel is ample for my own wants.”

“You are very young to be a colonel, Monsieur Campbell,” the baroness said.