that Margueron was no longer willing to sell the whole in one block,
and talked of cutting the farm up into a number of smaller lots. It
was necessary to circumvent this plan, and perhaps, added Moreau, it
might be best to employ a third party to make the purchase.

Everybody has enemies in this life. Now the steward and his wife had
wounded the feelings of a retired army officer, Monsieur de Reybert,
and his wife, who were living near Presles. From speeches like
pin-pricks, matters had advanced to dagger-thrusts. Monsieur de
Reybert breathed vengeance. He was determined to make Moreau lose his
situation and gain it himself. The two ideas were twins. Thus the
proceedings of the steward, spied upon for two years, were no secret
to Reybert. The same conveyance that took Moreau's letter to the count
conveyed Madame de Reybert, whom her husband despatched to Paris.
There she asked with such earnestness to see the count that although
she was sent away at nine o'clock, he having then gone to bed, she was
ushered into his study the next morning at seven.

"Monsieur," she said to the cabinet-minister, "we are incapable, my
husband and I, of writing anonymous letters, therefore I have come to
see you in person. I am Madame de Reybert, nee de Corroy. My husband
is a retired officer, with a pension of six hundred francs, and we
live at Presles, where your steward has offered us insult after
insult, although we are persons of good station. Monsieur de Reybert,
who is not an intriguing man, far from it, is a captain of artillery,
retired in 1816, having served twenty years,--always at a distance
from the Emperor, Monsieur le comte. You know of course how difficult
it is for soldiers who are not under the eye of their master to obtain
promotion,--not counting that the integrity and frankness of Monsieur
de Reybert were displeasing to his superiors. My husband has watched