delight, started the engine. Hortense stepped in and wrapped herself in a
wide cloak. The car followed the narrow, grassy path which led back to the
cross-roads and Rossigny was accelerating the speed, when he was suddenly
forced to pull up. A shot had rung out from the neighbouring wood, on the
right. The car was swerving from side to side.

"A front tire burst," shouted Rossigny, leaping to the ground.

"Not a bit of it!" cried Hortense. "Somebody fired!"

"Impossible, my dear! Don't be so absurd!"

At that moment, two slight shocks were felt and two more reports were
heard, one after the other, some way off and still in the wood.

Rossigny snarled:

"The back tires burst now ... both of them.... But who, in the devil's
name, can the ruffian be?... Just let me get hold of him, that's all!..."

He clambered up the road-side slope. There was no one there. Moreover, the
leaves of the coppice blocked the view.

"Damn it! Damn it!" he swore. "You were right: somebody was firing at the
car! Oh, this is a bit thick! We shall be held up for hours! Three tires to
mend!... But what are you doing, dear girl?"

Hortense herself had alighted from the car. She ran to him, greatly
excited: