ling in the occurrence. He risked
nothing by waiting. No power on earth could help the tramp escape or
keep him from the sound thrashing which he had earned and from being
conveyed, under safe escort, to the town gaol.

The farmer took a gun and went out to his two labourers:

"Anything fresh?"

"No, Farmer Goussot, not yet."

"We sha'n't have long to wait. Unless old Nick carries him over the
walls...."

From time to time, they heard the four brothers hailing one another in
the distance. The old bird was evidently making a fight for it, was
more active than they would have thought. Still, with sturdy fellows
like the Goussot brothers....

However, one of them returned, looking rather crestfallen, and made no
secret of his opinion:

"It's no use keeping on at it for the present. It's pitch dark. The old
chap must have crept into some hole. We'll hunt him out to-morrow."

"To-morrow! Why, lad, you're off your chump!" protested the farmer.

The eldest son now appeared, quite out of breath, and was of the same
opinion as his brother. Why not wait till next day, seeing that the
ruffian was as safe within the demesne as between the walls of a prison?

"Well, I'll go myself," cried old Goussot. "Light me a lantern,
somebody!"

But, at that moment, three gendarmes arrived; and a number of village
lads also came up to hear the latest.

The sergeant of gendarmes was a man of method. He first insisted on
hearing the whole story, in full detail; then he stopped to think; then
he questioned the four brothers, separately, and took his time for
reflection after each deposition. When he had learnt from them that the
tramp had fled toward the back of the estate, that he had been lost
sight of repeatedly and that he had finally disappeared near a place
known as the Crows' Knoll, he meditated once more and announced his
conclusion:

"Better wait. Old Trainard might slip through our hands, amidst all the
confusion of a pursuit in the dark, and then good-night, everybody!"

The farmer shrugged his shoulders and, cursing under his breath, yielded
to the sergeant's arguments. That worthy organized a strict watch,
distributed the brothers Goussot and the lads from the village under his
men's eyes, made sure that the ladders were locked away and established
his headquarters in the dining-room, where he and Farmer Goussot sat and
nodded over a decanter of old brandy.

The night passed quietly. Every two hours, the sergeant we