bony, nervous mare, fevered with foam.

"Ah! it is Father Chupin," murmured one of the peasants with a sigh of
relief.

"The same," observed another. "He seems to be in a terrible hurry."

"The old rascal has probably stolen the horse he is riding."

This last remark disclosed the reputation Father Chupin enjoyed among
his neighbors.

He was, indeed, one of those thieves who are the scourge and the terror
of the rural districts. He pretended to be a day-laborer, but the
truth was, that he held work in holy horror, and spent all his time in
sleeping and idling about his hovel. Hence, stealing was the only
means of support for himself, his wife, two sons--terrible youths, who,
somehow, had escaped the conscription.

They consumed nothing that was not stolen. Wheat, wine, fuel,
fruits--all were the rightful property of others. Hunting and fishing
at all seasons, and with forbidden appliances, furnished them with ready
money.

Everyone in the neighborhood knew this; and yet when Father Chupin was
pursued and captured, as he was occasionally, no witness could be found
to testify against him.

"He is a hard case," men said; "and if he had a grudge against anyone,
he would be quite capable of lying in ambush and shooting him as he