er fixedly that way. "And where
is this view of Lancilly?"

Both the uncle and nephew breathed more freely as they led him up the
hill, through higher slopes of wood, then under some great branching
oaks, here allowed to grow to their full size, and out into a rugged
lane, winding on through wild hedges festooned with blackberries. Here,
at the top, they looked straight across the valley to Lancilly, as it
lay in the sunshine. Its high roofs flashing, it looked indeed the
majestic centre of the country-side. Angelot gazed at it indifferently.
Again the Prefect turned to him with his kind smile.

"It will be charming for you to have your cousins there. They will
reconcile you to the powers that be."

Angelot answered: "I have no quarrel with the powers that be, monsieur,
as long as you represent them. As to life, I want no change. Give me a
gun and set me on a moor with my uncle. There we are!"

"If I thought your uncle was quite so easily satisfied!" the Prefect
said, and his look, as he turned to Monsieur Joseph, was a little
enigmatical.

CHAPTER V

HOW ANGELOT MADE AN ENEMY

The sun was near setting when the Prefect and his companions rode away
from Les Chouettes, their visit having resulted, as it seemed, in
nothing worse than annoyance and anxiety.

Joseph de la Mariniere drew a long breath as he saw them go. The Prefect
looked back once or twice and saw him standing near his house, a small
black figure in the full blaze of the west. He seemed to be alone with
his dogs, though in fact Riette and the three servants were peeping
round the corner of the house beyond him, waiting for the final
disappearance of the visitors. He had asked Angelot to guide them
through the labyrinth of woods and lanes to a road leading to a town
which the Prefect wished to reach before nightfall. As Angelot was on
foot, their progress was slow; and it seemed an age to Monsieur Joseph
till they had crossed his broad meadow to the south, and instead of
going on towards Lancilly, had struck into a wood on the left through
which a narrow path ran.

When the last gendarme had passed from bright sunshine into shadows,
when the tramp of the last horse had died away, Monsieur Joseph made a
little joyful spring into the air and called, "Riette, my child, where
are you?"

"Here I am, papa!" cried the girl, darting forward. "Ah, what a day we
have had!"

"And what an evening we will have now!" said Monsieur Joseph.

He seize