e two
carriages had met, ran in a hollow between high banks studded with oaks
like gigantic toadstools, adding to the deepness of the shadow.

"There are people following us," said Angelot.

He interrupted Martin in the midst of one of his stories; the soldier
was standing still, leaning on his stick, and laughed with a touch of
annoyance, for he was growing vain of his skill as a story-teller.

"My father and mother," he said. "And here I am forgetting their soup,
which I promised to have ready."

"It is not--I know Maitre Joubard's step," said Angelot.

"Some of the vintagers--" Martin was beginning, when he and Angelot were
surrounded suddenly in the dusk by several men, two of whom seized
Angelot by the shoulders.

"I arrest you, in the Emperor's name," said a third man.

Angelot struggled to free himself, and Martin lifted his stick
threateningly.

"What is this, rascals? Do you know what you are saying? This is the son
of Monsieur de la Mariniere."

"It is some mistake. You have no business to arrest me. You will answer
for this, police! You will answer it to Monsieur le Prefet. He is ill,
and cannot have given the order. Show me your authority."

"Never mind our authority," said the chief. "We don't want Monsieur de
la Mariniere, but we do want his son. Are you coming quietly, young
gentleman, or must we put on handcuffs? Get out of the way with your
stick, you one-legged fellow, or I shall have to punish you."

"Keep back, Martin; you can do nothing. Go and tell my father," said
Angelot. He shook off the men's hands, and stood still and upright in
the midst of them.

"Why do you arrest me?" he said. "Where are you going to take me?"

"Ah, that you will see," said the police officer.

The snarling malice in his voice seemed suddenly familiar to Angelot.

"Why, I know you--you are--"

"Never mind who I am. It is my business to keep down Chouans."

"But I am not a Chouan!"

"A man is known by his company. Now then--quick march--away!"

"Adieu, Martin! This is all nonsense--I shall soon come back," Angelot
cried, as they hustled him on.

A few moments, and the very tramp of their feet was lost in the dusk,
for they had dragged their prisoner out of the lane and were crossing
the open moor. Martin, in much tribulation, made the best of his way
back to meet his father and mother, and with them carried the news to La
Mariniere.

Half an hour later, Monsieur Urbain, whistling gaily, came back f