threatening an enemy visible to himself alone.

Soon they were able to distinguish his features.

"It is Chanlouineau!" exclaimed M. Lacheneur.

"The owner of the vineyards on the Borderie?"

"The same! The handsomest young farmer in the country, and the best
also. Ah! he has good blood in his veins; we may well be proud of him."

"Ask him to stop," said M. d'Escorval.

Lacheneur leaned over the balustrade, and, forming a trumpet out of his
two hands, he called:

"Oh! Chanlouineau!"

The robust young farmer raised his head.

"Come up," shouted Lacheneur; "the baron wishes to speak with you."

Chanlouineau responded by a gesture of assent. They saw him enter
the gate, cross the garden, and at last appear at the door of the
drawing-room.

His features were distorted with fury, his disordered clothing gave
evidence of a serious conflict. His cravat was gone, and his torn
shirt-collar revealed his muscular throat.

"Where is this fighting?" demanded Lacheneur eagerly; "and with whom?"

Chanlouineau gave a nervous laugh which resembled a roar of rage.

"They are not fighting," he replied; "they are amusing themselves. This
firing which you hear is in honor of Monsieur le Duc de Sairmeuse."

"Impossible!"

"I know it very well; and yet, what I have told you is the truth. It is
the work of that miserable wretch and thief, Chupin. Ah, _canaille_! If
I ever find him within reach of my arm he will never steal again."

M. Lacheneur was confounded.

"Tell us what has happened," he said, excitedly.

"Oh, it is as clear as daylight. When the duke arrived at Sairmeuse,
Chupin, the old scoundrel, with his two rascally boys, and that old hag,
his wife, ran after the carriage like beggars after a diligence,
crying, 'Vive Monsieur le Duc!' The duke was enchanted, for he doubtless
expected a volley of stones, and he placed a six-franc piece in the hand
of each of the wretches. This money gave Chupin an appetite for more,
so he took it into his head to give this old noble a reception like that
which was given to the Emperor. Having learned through Bibiaine, whose
tongue is as long as a viper's, all that has passed at the presbytery,
between you, Monsieur Lacheneur, and the duke, he came and proclaimed it
in the market-place. When they heard it, all who had purchased national
lands were frightened. Chupin had counted on this, and soon he began
telling the poor fools that they must burn powder under the duke's nose
if