o mercy!"

He told them where to stand, went to make sure that the farm-gates,
which were only used for the carts, were locked, and, not till then,
remembered that his wife might perhaps be in need of aid:

"Well, mother, how goes it?"

"Where is he? Have you got him?" she asked, in a breath.

"Yes, we're after him. The lads must have collared him by now."

The news quite restored her; and a nip of rum gave her the strength to
drag herself to the bed, with old Goussot's assistance, and to tell her
story. For that matter, there was not much to tell. She had just lit the
fire in the living-hall; and she was knitting quietly at her bedroom
window, waiting for the men to return, when she thought that she heard
a slight grating sound in the linen-room next door:

"I must have left the cat in there," she thought to herself.

She went in, suspecting nothing, and was astonished to see the two doors
of one of the linen-cupboards, the one in which they hid their money,
wide open. She walked up to it, still without suspicion. There was a man
there, hiding, with his back to the shelves.

"But how did he get in?" asked old Goussot.

"Through the passage, I suppose. We never keep the back door shut."

"And then did he go for you?"

"No, I went for him. He tried to get away."

"You should have let him."

"And what about the money?"

"Had he taken it by then?"

"Had he taken it! I saw the bundle of bank-notes in his hands, the
sweep! I would have let him kill me sooner.... Oh, we had a sharp
tussle, I give you my word!"

"Then he had no weapon?'

"No more than I did. We had our fingers, our nails and our teeth. Look
here, where he bit me. And I yelled and screamed! Only, I'm an old woman
you see.... I had to let go of him...."

"Do you know the man?"

"I'm pretty sure it was old Trainard."

"The tramp? Why, of course it's old Trainard!" cried the farmer. "I
thought I knew him too.... Besides, he's been hanging round the house
these last three days. The old vagabond must have smelt the money. Aha,
Trainard, my man, we shall see some fun! A number-one hiding in the
first place; and then the police.... I say, mother, you can get up now,
can't you? Then go and fetch the neighbours.... Ask them to run for the
gendarmes.... By the by, the attorney's youngster has a bicycle.... How
that damned old Trainard scooted! He's got good legs for his age, he
has. He can run like a hare!"

Goussot was holding his sides, revel