the very middle of the narrow lane, with
all that swaggering air of a conqueror, which was better suited to
German fields than to the quiet woody ways of France. Angelot hurried
forward.

"Monsieur le General!" he called out; but Ratoneau, though he must have
heard, did not turn his head or take any notice.

"Insolent animal! I might as well leave him to fight it out with the
cows," the young fellow muttered; but for the Prefect's sake he ran on,
his dog scampering after him, caught up the General, and stretched out
a hand to his bridle.

"What the devil do you want!" said the General, lifting his whip.

"There is a herd of cows coming," Angelot shouted, though the blood
rushed into his face at the man's involuntary movement. "You must get
out of their way, or they will knock you down and trample on you. This
is their way home. Draw up under the bank at once."

"I shall get out of nobody's way," roared the General. "But you had
better get out of mine, little ape of a Chouan, or--"

The whip quivered in the air; another moment would have brought it down
on Angelot's bare hand. He cried out, "Take care!" and in that moment
snatched the whip and threw it over the horse's head. It fell into a
mass of blackberry briars which made a red and green thicket under the
bank just here. The lane turned slightly and was very narrow at this
place, with a stony slope upwards. It was a little more than usual like
the dry bed of a torrent. Only under the right-hand bank there was a
yard of standing-room, where it was possible to draw aside while the
crowd of horned beasts rushed past. The thunder of their hoofs was
drawing near. The Prefect, fifty yards behind, called out advice to his
angry colleague, which fell on deaf ears. Angelot was pelted with some
choice specimens of a soldier's vocabulary, as he seized the bridle and
tried to pull the horse to the side of the road. But the rider's
violent resistance made this impossible. The horse plunged: the General,
swearing furiously, did his best to throw Angelot down under its feet.
For a minute the young fellow did his best to save the obstinate man in
spite of himself, but then he was obliged to let the bridle go, and
stepped to the shelter of the bank, while man and horse filled up the
roadway with prancing and swearing.

"Give me back my whip, you--" the various epithets which followed were
new to Angelot's country ears, but their tone made them serious.

Still, there was some