giantess started.

"Ah! he is better," said a treacherous voice. It was Robeccal who spoke.
He feared lest his absence would look badly, and he had come back.

"A physician is wanted," exclaimed Fanfar, turning to Schwann, who was
weeping like a child.

"There is none in the village, none nearer than Vagney, a league away."

"Then I will go for him."

"But the inundation. Fanfar, you can't do it."

"I must try it, at all events."

"Monsieur Fanfar," said Irene, "I beg you to take my horse. She is a
splendid animal, and goes like the wind!"

Madame Ursula raised her hands to heaven. "A splendid animal indeed!"
she thought, "it cost two thousand francs."

Caillette wrung her hands in despair.

"I accept your kindness," answered Fanfar, simply. "You are very good,
Mademoiselle, and I thank you."

"I remembered your words of advice," she replied.

Fanfar looked at her a moment. Then, passing his hand over his brow, he
seemed to try to shake himself together.

"Let him be carried to the inn, and the doctor shall see him as quickly
as possible," he said.

The peasants slowly raised the injured man, and as they crossed the
Square, they beheld a singular scene. Bobichel had Robeccal by the
throat, and pressed his knees on his adversary's chest.

"Ah! Bobichel," cried Schwann, "is this the time to fight?"

Bobichel rose, and seemed to hesitate, then he flung the scoundrel from
him, with contempt and loathing.

Fanfar leaped upon Irene's horse, and dashed off in the direction of
Vagney.

"My father, and he," murmured Caillette, "all that I love and have in
the world."

And with her handkerchief to her eyes, she followed the sad procession.

CHAPTER XVIII.

PIERRE LABARRE.

We have left the Marquis and his most excellent servant Cyprien going
toward Vagney, but it was not without anxiety that they ventured on this
expedition. Both these men valued their lives highly, and felt no fears
of ordinary foes, but with an inundation no cunning would prevail.
Cyprien was extremely uncomfortable, and held his breath to listen to
the rush of waters. He heard it soon enough, and saw it too. The water
looked brown and had a silver foam upon it, but high as was the torrent
it was still confined to its rocky bed. The intendant's courage
returned. The Marquis stopped short to look at the cataract in
admiration, but Cyprien urged him on, for it was growing late.

Suddenly, Cyprien laid his hand on the arm of t