m. But he, like me, was badly disposed, and could not
agree with his master; and then, too, they were always throwing his
father and one of his brothers in his teeth. But that's nothing to you.
The end of it was, that he returned to his mother, who is a very devil
in sin and wickedness, and began to poach on the river. He cannot see me
at Paris, and in the daytime I go to see him in his island, the Ile du
Ravageur, near Asnieres. It's very near; though if it were farther off,
I would go all the same, even if I went on my hands and knees, or swam
all the way, for I can swim like an otter."

"You must be very happy to go into the country," said La Goualeuse, with
a sigh; "especially if you are as fond as I am of walking in the
fields."

"I prefer walking in the woods and large forests with my man."

"In the forests! Oh, ain't you afraid?"

"Afraid! Oh, yes, afraid! I should think so! What can a she-wolf fear?
The thicker and more lonely the forest, the better I should like it. A
lone hut in which I should live with Martial as a poacher, to go with
him at night to set the snares for the game, and then, if the keepers
came to apprehend us, to fire at them, both of us, whilst my man and I
were hid in underwood,--ah, that would indeed be happiness!"

"Then you have lived in the woods, La Louve?"

"Never."

"Who gave you these ideas, then?"

"Martial."

"How did he acquire them?"

"He was a poacher in the forest of Rambouillet; and it is not a year ago
that he was supposed to have fired at a keeper who had fired at him, the
vagabond! However, there was no proof of the fact, but Martial was
obliged to leave that part of the country. Then he came to Paris to try
and be a locksmith, and then I first saw him. As he was too wild to be
on good terms with his master, he preferred returning to his relations
at Asnieres, and poach in the river; it is not so slavish. Still he
always regrets the woods, and some day or other will return to them.
From his talking to me of poaching and forests, he has crammed my head
with these ideas, and I now think that is the life I was born for. But
it is always so. What your man likes, you like. If Martial had been a
thief, I should have been a thief. When one has a man, we like to be
like him."

"And where are your own relations, La Louve?"

"How should I know?"

"Is it long since you saw them?"

"I don't know whether they are dead or alive."

"Were they, then, so very unkind to yo