short, one of the most consummate scoundrels that ever existed.

The peasants feared him, and yet they had no conception of his real
character.

All his resources of mind had, until now, been expended in evading the
precipice of the rural code.

To save himself from falling into the hands of the gendarmes, and to
steal a few sacks of wheat, he had expended treasures of intrigue which
would have made the fortunes of twenty diplomats.

Circumstances, as he always said, had been against him.

So he desperately caught at the first and only opportunity worthy of his
talent, which had ever presented itself.

Of course, the wily rustic had said nothing of the true circumstances
which attended the restoration of Sairmeuse to its former owner.

From him, the peasants learned only the bare fact; and the news spread
rapidly from group to group.

"Monsieur Lacheneur has given up Sairmeuse," said he. "Chateau, forests,
vineyards, fields--he surrenders everything."

This was enough, and more than enough to terrify every land-owner in the
village.

If Lacheneur, this man who was so powerful in their eyes, considered the