continued the father, fixing his eyes, dangerous as those of a
wild-cat, on the boy. "Now remember this; if you tell the least little
thing that happens here to Gaucher, or to the Grouage and Bellache
people, or even to Marianne who loves us, you will kill your father.
Never tattle again, and I will forgive what you said yesterday." The
child began to cry. "Don't cry; but when any one questions you, say,
as the peasants do, 'I don't know.' There are persons roaming about
whom I distrust. Run along! As for you two," he added, turning to the
women, "you have heard what I said. Keep a close mouth, both of you."

"Husband, what are you going to do?"

Michu, who was carefully measuring a charge of powder, poured it into
the barrel of his gun, rested the weapon against the parapet and said
to Marthe:--

"No one knows I own that gun. Stand in front of it."

Couraut, who had sprung to his feet, was barking furiously.

"Good, intelligent fellow!" cried Michu. "I am certain there are spies
about--"

Man and beast feel a spy. Couraut and Michu, who seemed to have one
and the same soul, lived together as the Arab and his horse in the
desert. The bailiff knew the modulations of the dog's voice, just as
the dog read his master's meaning in his eyes, or felt it exhaling in
the air from his body.

"What do you say to that?" said Michu, in a low voice, calling his