steps through the thickets toward the corner of the Corne woods which he
had designated to Marillac; but, after walking for some time, he was
forced to slacken his steps. The hunting-party were coming in his
direction, and Lambernier knew that to continue in the path he had first
chosen would take him directly among the hunters; and, in spite of his
insolence, he feared the Baron too much to wish to expose himself to the
danger of another chastisement. He therefore retraced his steps and took
a roundabout way through the thickets, whose paths were all familiar to
him; he descended to the banks of the river ready to ascend to the place
appointed for the rendezvous as soon as the hunting party had passed.

He had hardly reached the plateau covered with trees, which extended
above the rocks, when, as he entered a clearing which had been recently
made, he saw two men coming toward him who were walking very fast, and
whom to meet in this place caused him a very disagreeable sensation. The
first man was Mademoiselle de Corandeuil's coachman, as large a fellow as
ever crushed the seats of landau or brougham with his rotundity. He was
advancing with hands in the pockets of his green jacket and his broad
shoulders thrown back, as if he had taken it upon himself to replace
Atlas. His cap, placed in military fashion upon his head, his scowling
brows, and his bombastic air, announced that he was upon the point of
accomplishing some important deed which greatly interested him. Leonard
Rousselet, walking by his side, moved his spider legs with equal
activity, carefully holding up the skirts of his long coat as if they
were petticoats.

Lambernier, at sight of them, turned to enter the woods again, but he was
stopped in his retreat by a threatening shout.

"Stop, you vagabond!" exclaimed the coachman; "halt! If you take a