in order to sell, you must be on good terms with
everybody."

"I shall have the country people on my side."

"By what means?"

"By doing good among them."

"Doing good to the valley peasants! to the petty shopkeepers of
Soulanges!" exclaimed Sibilet, squinting horribly, by reason of the
irony which flamed brighter in one eye than in the other. "Monsieur le
comte doesn't know what he undertakes. Our Lord Jesus Christ would die
again upon the cross in this valley! If you wish an easy life, follow
the example of the late Mademoiselle Laguerre; let yourself be robbed,
or else make people afraid of you. Women, children, and the masses are
all governed by fear. That was the great secret of the Convention, and
of the Emperor, too."

"Good heavens! is this the forest of Bondy?" cried the general.

"My dear," said Sibilet's wife, appearing at this moment, "your
breakfast is ready. Pray excuse him, Monsieur le comte; he has eaten
nothing since morning for he was obliged to go to Ronquerolles to
deliver some barley."

"Go, go, Sibilet," said the general.

The next morning the count rose early, before daylight, and went to
the gate of the Avonne, intending to talk with the one forester whom he
employed and find out what the man's sentiments really were.

Some seven or eight hundred acres of the forest of Les Aigues lie along
the banks of the Avonne; and to preserve the majestic beauty of the
river the large trees that border it have been left untouched for a
distance of three leagues on both sides in an almost straight line. The
mistress of Henri IV., to whom Les Aigues formerly belonged, was as fond
of hunting as the king himself. In 1593 she ordered a bridge to be built
of a single arch with shelving roadway by which to ride from the lower
side of the forest to a much larger portion of it, purchased by her,
which lay upon the slopes of the hills. The gate of the Avonne was built
as a place of meeting for the huntsmen; and we know the magnificence
bestowed by the architects of that day upon all buildings intended for
the delight of the crown and the nobility. Six avenues branched away
from it, their place of meeting forming a half-moon. In the centre of
the semi-circular space stood an obelisk surmounted by a round shield,
formerly gilded, bearing on one side the arms of Navarre and on the
other those of the Countess de Moret. Another half-moon, on the side
toward the river, communicated with the first by a straight ave