nto the house to have his morning coffee
and to discuss the matter with his wife, whom he found on her knees in
front of the fire, trying to make it burn quickly, and as soon as he got
to the door, he said:

"Somebody has stolen the gray rabbit."

She turned round so suddenly that she found herself sitting on the floor,
and looking at her husband with distressed eyes, she said:

"What is it, Cacheux? Somebody has stolen a rabbit?"

"The big gray one."

She sighed.

"What a shame! Who can have done it?"

She was a little, thin, active, neat woman, who knew all about farming.
Lecacheur had his own ideas about the matter.

"It must be that fellow, Polyte."

His wife got up suddenly and said in a furious voice:

"He did it! he did it! You need not look for any one else. He did it! You
have said it, Cacheux!"

All her peasant's fury, all her avarice, all her rage of a saving woman
against the man of whom she had always been suspicious, and against the
girl whom she had always suspected, showed themselves in the contraction
of her mouth, and the wrinkles in the cheeks and forehead of her thin,
exasperated face.

"And what have you done?" she asked.

"I have sent for the gendarmes."

This Polyte was a laborer, who had been employed on the farm for a few
days, and who had been dismissed by Lecacheur for an insolent answer. He
was an old soldier, and was supposed to have retained his habits of
marauding and debauchery front his campaigns in Africa. He did anything
for a livelihood, but whether he were a mason, a navvy, a reaper, whether
he broke stones or lopped trees, he was always lazy, and so he remained
nowhere for long, and had, at times, to change his neighborhood to obtain
work.

From the first day that he came to the farm, Lecacheur's wife had
detested him, and now she was sure that he had committed the theft.

In about half an hour the two gendarmes arrived. Brigadier Senateur was
very tall and thin, and Gendarme Lenient short and fat. Lecacheur made
them sit down, and told them the affair, and then they went and saw the
scene of the theft, in order to verify the fact that the hutch had been
broken open, and to collect all the proofs they could. When they got back
to the kitchen, the mistress brought in some wine, filled their glasses,
and asked with a distrustful look:

"Shall you catch him?"

The brigadier, who had his sword between his legs, appeared thoughtful.
Certainly, he was sure of takin