d terms just now, my uncle and I. In truth, I have
offended all my relations, and nobody will be sorry to have me away for
a time."

"Tant mieux, monsieur!" said Simon. "Then you won't object to giving the
Minister of Police a little information about your uncle and the other
Chouan gentlemen, his friends."

"Ah! that is quite another story! That is the idea, is it? Monsieur le
Duc de Rovigo, and Monsieur le Comte Real, flatter themselves that they
have got hold of a traitor?"

"Pardon, monsieur! It is the Chouans who are traitors."

"I think I could find a few others in our poor France this very night.
But I am not one of them. Again, whose authority have you for arresting
me? Is it Monsieur Real who has stretched his long arm so far?"

"The authority is sufficient, and you are my prisoner," Simon answered
coolly.

"I suspect you have no authority but your own!"

"They will enlighten you in Paris, possibly."

"Come, tell me, how much are they paying you for this little trick?"

One of the other men laughed suddenly, and Simon became angry.

"Hold your tongue, prisoner, or I shall have you gagged. You need not
speak again till the authorities in Paris take means to make you. Yes, I
assure you, they can persuade rather strongly when they like. Now, quick
march--we have a post-chaise waiting in the road over there."

Angelot saw that his wisest course was to say no more. He was unarmed;
they had taken away the knife he had used for cutting grapes; his
faithful fowling-piece was hanging in the hall at La Mariniere. He was
guarded by five men, all armed, all taller and bigger than himself. He
walked along in silence, apparently resigned to his fate, but thinking
hard all the while.

His thoughts, busy and curious as they were, did not hit on the right
origin of his very disagreeable adventure. Knowing a good deal of Simon
by repute, and a little by experience, and having heard legends of such
police exploits in the West within the last ten years, though not since
Monsieur de Mauves took office, he felt almost sure that the spy was
taking advantage of the Prefect's illness to gain a little money and
credit on his own account. And of course his own arrest, a young and
unimportant man, was more easily managed and less likely to have
consequences than that of his uncle, for instance, or Monsieur des
Barres. He did not believe that the Paris authorities knew anything of
it, yet; but he did believe that Simon knew w