of an old man.
“He continued slowly:
“‘Well, I found out, last winter, that someone was poaching in the woods of Roseraies, but I couldn’t seem to catch the man. I spent night after night on the lookout for him. In vain. During that time they began poaching over by Ecorcheville. I was growing thin from vexation. But as for catching the trespasser, impossible! One might have thought that the rascal was forewarned of my plans.
“‘But one day, while I was brushing Marius’ Sunday trousers, I found forty cents in his pocket. Where did he get it?
“‘I thought the matter over for about a week, and I noticed that he used to go out; he would leave the house just as I was coming home to go to bed – yes, monsieur.
“‘Then I started to watch him, without the slightest suspicion of the real facts. One morning, just after I had gone to bed before him, I got right up again, and followed him. For shadowing a man, there is nobody like me, monsieur.
“‘And I caught him, Marius, poaching on your land, monsieur; he my nephew, I your keeper!
“‘The blood rushed to my head, and I almost killed him on the spot, I hit him so hard. Oh! yes, I thrashed him all right. And I promised him that he would get another beating from my hand, in your presence, as an example.
“‘There! I have grown thin from sorrow. You know how it is when one is worried like that. But tell me, what would you have done? The boy has no father or mother, and I am the last one of his blood; I kept him, I couldn’t drive him out, could I?
“‘I told him that if it happened again I would have no more pity for him, all would be over. There! Did I do right, monsieur?’
“I answered, holding out my hand:
“‘You did well, Cavalier; you are an honest man.’
“He rose.
“‘Thank you, monsieur. Now I am going to fetch him. I must give him his thrashing, as an example.’
“I knew that it was hopeless to try and turn the old man from his idea. I therefore let him have his own way.
“He got the rascal and brought him back by the ear.
“I was seated on a cane chair, with the solemn expression of a judge.
“Marius seemed to have grown; he was homelier even than the year before, with his evil, sneaking expression.
“His big hands seemed gigantic.
“His uncle pushed him up to me, and, in his soldierly voice, said:
“‘Beg the gentleman’s pardon.’
“The boy didn’t say a word.
“Then putting one arm round him, the former gendarme lifted him right off the ground, and began to whack him with such force that I rose to stop the blows.
“The boy was now howling: ‘Mercy! mercy! mercy! I promise – ’
“Cavalier put him back on the ground and forced him to his knees:
“‘Beg for pardon,’ he said.
“With eyes lowered, the scamp murmured:
“‘I ask for pardon!’
“Then his uncle lifted him to his feet, and dismissed him with a cuff which almost knocked him down again.
“He made his escape, and I did not see him again that evening.
“Cavalier appeared overwhelmed.’
“‘He is a bad egg,’ he said.
“And throughout the whole dinner, he kept repeating:
“‘Oh! that worries me, monsieur, that worries me.’
“I tried to comfort him, but in vain.
“I went to bed early, so that I might start out at daybreak.
“My dog was already asleep on the floor, at the foot of my bed, when I put out the light.
“I was awakened toward midnight by the furious barking of my dog Bock. I immediately noticed that my room was full of smoke. I jumped out of bed, struck a light, ran to the door and opened it. A cloud of flames burst in. The house was on fire.
“I quickly closed the heavy oak door and, drawing on my trousers, I first lowered the dog through the window, by means of a rope made of my sheets; then, having thrown out the rest of my clothes, my game-bag and my gun, I in turn escaped the same way.
“I began to shout with all my might: ‘Cavalier! Cavalier! Cavalier!’
“But the gamekeeper did not wake up. He slept soundly like an old gendarme.
“However, I could see through the lower windows that the whole ground-floor was nothing but a roaring furnace; I also noticed that it had been filled with straw to make it burn readily.
“Somebody must purposely have set fire to the place!
“I continued shrieking wildly: ‘Cavalier!’
“Then the thought struck me that the smoke might be suffocating him. An idea came to me. I slipped two cartridges into my gun, and shot straight at his window.
“The six panes of glass shattered into the room in a cloud of glass. This time the old man had heard me, and he appeared, dazed, in his nightshirt, bewildered by the glare which illumined the whole front of his ‘house.
“I cried to him:
“‘Your house is on fire! Escape through the window! Quick! Quick!’
“The flames were coming out through all the cracks downstairs, were licking along the wall, were creeping toward him and going to surround him. He jumped and landed on his feet, like a cat.
“It was none too soon. The thatched roof cracked in the middle, right over the staircase, which formed a kind of flue for the fire downstairs; and an immense red jet jumped up into the air, spreading like a stream of water and sprinkling a shower of sparks around the hut. In a few seconds it was nothing but a pool of flames.
“Cavalier, thunderstruck, asked:
“‘How did the fire start?’
“I answered:
“‘Somebody lit it in the kitchen.’
“He muttered:
“‘Who could have started the fire?’
“And I, suddenly guessing, answered:
“‘Marius!’
“The old man understood. He stammered:
“‘Good God! That is why he didn’t return.’
“A terrible thought flashed through my mind. I cried:
“‘And
