ng. I am a Legitimist:
he used to be an Orleanist, and now he is a Republican. I believe that
the descendant of our old kings alone can save the country; and he
is convinced that the happiness of France is possible only under a
Republic. But two men may be enemies, and yet esteem each other. M. de
Boiscoran is an honorable man; he has done his duty bravely in the war,
he has fought well, and has been wounded."

M. Galpin noted down these answers with extreme care. When he had done
so, he continued,--

"The question is not one of political opinions only. You have had
personal difficulties with M. de Boiscoran."

"Of no importance."

"I beg pardon: you have been at law."

"Our estates adjoin each other. There is an unlucky brook between us,
which is a source of constant trouble to the neighbors."

M. Galpin shook his head, and added,--

"These are not the only difficulties you have had with each other.
Everybody in the country knows that you have had violent altercations."

Count Claudieuse seemed to be in great distress.

"It is true: we have used hard words. M. de Boiscoran had two wretched
dogs that were continually escaping from his kennels, and came hunting
in my fields. You cannot imagine how much game they destroyed."

"Exactly so. And one day you met M. de Boiscoran, and you warned him
that you would shoot his dogs."

"I must confess I was furious. But I was wrong, a thousand times wrong:
I did threaten"--

"That is it. You were both of you armed. You threatened one another: he
actually aimed at you. Don't deny it. A number of persons have seen it;
and I know it. He has told me so himself."

V.

There was not a person in the whole district who did not know of what
a fearful disease poor Cocoleu was suffering; and everybody knew, also,
that it was perfectly useless to try and help him. The two men who had
taken him out had therefore laid him simply on a pile of wet straw, and
then they had left him to himself, eager as they were to see and hear
what was going on.

It must be said, in justice to the several hundred peasants who were
crowding around the smoking ruins of Valpinson, that they treated the
madman who had accused M. de Boiscoran of such a crime, neither with
cruel jokes nor with fierce curses. Unfortunately, first impulses,
which are apt to be good impulses, do not last long. One of those idle
good-for-nothings, drunkards, envious scamps who are found in every
community, in the cou