d, which had decomposed the
flooring, although it was made of scraps of granite conglomerated in
clay, proved that the master of the house had a right to his Chouan
name, and that the pints galloped down either his own throat or that of
his friends. Two enormous jugs full of cider stood on the table. Marie's
attention, caught at first by the innumerable spider's-webs which hung
from the roof, was fixing itself on these pitchers when the noise
of fighting, growing more and more distinct, impelled her to find a
hiding-place, without waiting for the woman of the house, who, however,
appeared at that moment.

"Good-morning, Becaniere," said Marie, restraining a smile at the
appearance of a person who bore some resemblance to the heads which
architects attach to window-casings.

"Ha! you come from d'Orgemont?" answered Barbette, in a tone that was
far from cordial.

"Yes, where can you hide me? for the Chouans are close by--"

"There," replied Barbette, as much amazed at the beauty as by the
strange apparel of a being she could hardly believe to be of her own
sex,--"there, in the priest's hiding-place."

She took her to the head of the bed, and was putting her behind it,
when they were both startled by the noise of a man springing into the
courtyard. Barbette had scarcely time to drop the curtain of the bed
and fold it about the girl before she was face to face with a fugitive
Chouan.

"Where can I hide, old woman? I am the Comte de Bauvan," said the
new-comer.

Mademoiselle de Verneuil quivered as she recognized the voice of the
belated guest, whose words, still a secret to her, brought about the
catastrophe of La Vivetiere.

"Alas! monseigneur, don't you see, I have no place? What I'd better do
is to keep outside and watch that no one gets in. If the Blues come,
I'll let you know. If I stay here, and they find me with you, they'll
burn my house down."

Barbette left the hut, feeling herself incapable of settling the
interests of two enemies who, in virtue of the double role her husband
was playing, had an equal right to her hiding-place.

"I've only two shots left," said the count, in despair. "It will be very
unlucky if those fellows turn back now and take a fancy to look under
this bed."

He placed his gun gently against the headboard behind which Marie was
standing among the folds of the green serge, and stooped to see if there
was room for him under the bed. He would infallibly have seen her
feet, but s