gently three times at the door of a little lonely house, situated
at the corner of a wood, five hundred yards from the village.

They had been standing close against the wall, so as not to be seen from
within, and they waited. As nobody answered, the brigadier knocked again
in a minute or two. It was so quiet, that the house seemed uninhabited;
but Lenient, the gendarme, who had very quick ears, said that he heard
somebody moving about inside, and then Senateur got angry. He would not
allow anyone to resist the authority of the law for a moment, and,
knocking at the door with the hilt of his sword, he cried out:

"Open the door, in the name of the law."

As this order had no effect, he roared out:

"If you do not obey, I shall smash the lock. I am the brigadier of the
gendarmerie, by G--! Here Lenient."

He had not finished speaking when the door opened and Senateur saw before
him a fat girl, with a very red color, blowzy, with pendant breasts, a
big stomach and broad hips, a sort of sanguine and bestial female, the
wife of the shepherd Severin, and he went into the cottage.

"I have come to pay you a visit, as I want to make a little search," he
said, and he looked about him. On the table there was a plate, a jug of
cider and a glass half full, which proved that a meal had been going on.
Two knives were lying side by side, and the shrewd gendarme winked at his
superior officer.

"It smells good," the latter said.

"One might swear that it was stewed rabbit," Lenient added, much amused.

"Will you have a glass of brandy?" the peasant woman asked.

"No, thank you; I only want the skin of the rabbit that you are eating."

She pretended not to understand, but she was trembling.

"What rabbit?"

The brigadier had taken a seat, and was calmly wiping his forehead.

"Come, come, you are not going to try and make us believe that you live
on couch grass. What were you eating there all by yourself for your
dinner?"

"I? Nothing whatever, I swear to you. A mite of butter on my bread."

"You are a novice, my good woman, _a mite of butter on your
bread_.... You are mistaken; you ought to have said: a mite of butter on
the rabbit. By G--d, your butter smells good! It is special butter, extra
good butter, butter fit for a wedding; certainly, not household butter!"

The gendarme was shaking with laughter, and repeated:

"Not household butter, certainly."

As brigadier Senateur was a joker, all the gendarmes had gr