Imperial Guard, suggested that Max might be laying a net for the
colonel; he asserted that some new scheme might be looked for from the
man who had got rid of the mother and one brother by making use of
Fario's attack upon him, the particulars of which were now no longer a
mystery. Monsieur Hochon had taken care to reveal the truth of Max's
atrocious accusation to the best people of the town. Thus it happened
that in talking over the situation of the lieutenant-colonel in
relation to Max, and in trying to guess what might spring from their
antagonism, the whole town regarded the two men, from the start, as
adversaries.

Philippe, who had carefully investigated all the circumstances of his
brother's arrest and the antecedents of Gilet and the Rabouilleuse,
was finally brought into rather close relations with Fario, who lived
near him. After studying the Spaniard, Philippe thought he might trust
a man of that quality. The two found their hatred so firm a bond of
union, that Fario put himself at Philippe's disposal, and related all
that he knew about the Knights of Idleness. Philippe promised, in case
he succeeded in obtaining over his uncle the power now exercised by
Gilet, to indemnify Fario for his losses; this bait made the Spaniard
his henchman. Maxence was now face to face with a dangerous foe; he
had, as they say in those parts, some one to handle. Roused by much
gossip and various rumors, the town of Issoudun expected a mortal
combat between the two men, who, we must remark, mutually despised
each other.

One morning, toward the end of November, Philippe met Monsieur Hochon
about twelve o'clock, in the long avenue of Frapesle, and said to
him:--

"I have discovered that your grandsons Baruch and Francois are the
intimate friends of Maxence Gilet. The rascals are mixed up in all the
pranks that are played about this town at night. It was through them
that Maxence knew what was said in your house when my mother and
brother were staying there."

"How did you get proof of such a monstrous thing?"

"I overheard their conversation one night as they were leaving a
drinking-shop. Your grandsons both owe Max more than three thousand
francs. The scoundrel told the lads to try and find out our
intentions; he reminded them that you had once thought of getting
round my uncle by priestcraft, and declared that nobody but you could
guide me; for he thinks, fortunately, that I am nothing more than a
'sabreur.'"

"My grand