ever? Fouche has him
upon the proscription list, and he is under the surveillance of the
police."

This objection dampened the enthusiasm.

"That is true," murmured some of the older men; "a visit to Monsieur
d'Escorval would, perhaps, do us more harm than good. And, besides, what
advice could he give us?"

Chanlouineau had forgotten all prudence.

"What of that?" he exclaimed. "If Monsieur d'Escorval has no counsel to
give us about this matter, he can, perhaps, teach us how to resist and
to defend ourselves."

For some moments Father Chupin had been studying, with an impassive
countenance, the storm of anger he had aroused. In his secret heart
he experienced the satisfaction of the incendiary at the sight of the
flames he has kindled.

Perhaps he already had a presentiment of the infamous part he would play
a few months later.

Satisfied with his experiment, he assumed, for the time, the role of
moderator.

"Wait a little. Do not cry before you are hurt," he exclaimed, in an
ironical tone. "Who told you that the Duc de Sairmeuse would trouble
you? How much of his former domain do you all own between you? Almost
nothing. A few fields and meadows and a hill on the Borderie. All these
together did not in former times yield him an income of five thousand
francs a year."

"Yes, that is true," replied Chanlouineau; "and if the revenue you
mention is quadrupled, it is only because the land is now in the hands
of forty proprietors who cultivate it themselves."

"Another reason why the duke will not say a word; he will not wish to
set the whole district in commotion. In my opinion, he will dispossess
only one of the owners of his former estates, and that is our worthy
ex-mayor--Monsieur Lacheneur, in short."

Ah! he knew only too well the egotism of his compatriots. He knew with
what complacency and eagerness they would accept an expiatory victim
whose sacrifice should be their salvation.

"That is a fact," remarked an old man; "Monsieur Lacheneur owns nearly
all the Sairmeuse property."

"Say all, while you are about it," rejoined Father Chupin. "Where does
Monsieur Lacheneur live? In that beautiful Chateau de Sairmeuse whose
gable we can see there through the trees. He hunts in the forests which
once belonged to the Ducs de Sairmeuse; he fishes in their lakes; he
drives the horses which once belonged to them, in the carriages upon
which one could now see their coat-of-arms, if it had not been painted
out.