re
is something serious going on. Your wife is frightened, and if there
are many persons like Pere Fourchon, this part of the country will be
uninhabitable--"

"If it were so, madame," answered Michaud, laughing, "we should not be
in the land of the living, for nothing would be easier than to make
away with us. The peasant's grumble, that is all. But as to passing from
growls to blows, from pilfering to crime, they care too much for life
and the free air of the fields. Olympe has been saying something
that frightened you, but you know she is in state to be frightened at
nothing," he added, drawing his wife's hand under his arm and pressing
it to warn her to say no more.

"Cornevin! Juliette!" cried Madame Michaud, who soon saw the head of her
old cook at the window. "I am going for a little walk; take care of the
premises."

Two enormous dogs, who began to bark, proved that the effectiveness of
the garrison at the gate of the Avonne was not to be despised. Hearing
the dogs, Cornevin, an old Percheron, Olympe's foster-father, came from
behind the trees, showing a head such as no other region than La Perche
can manufacture. Cornevin was undoubtedly a Chouan in 1794 and 1799.

The whole party accompanied the countess along that one of the six
forest avenues which led directly to the gate of Conches, crossing
the Silver-spring rivulet. Madame de Montcornet walked in front with
Blondet. The abbe and Michaud and his wife talked in a low voice of the
revelation that had just been made to the countess of the state of the
country.

"Perhaps it is providential," said the abbe; "for if madame is willing,
we might, perhaps, by dint of benefits and constant consideration of
their wants, change the hearts of these people."

At about six hundred feet from the pavilion and below the brooke, the
countess caught sight of a broken red jug and some spilt milk.

"Something has happened to the poor child!" she cried, calling to
Michaud and his wife, who were returning to the pavilion.

"A misfortune like Perrette's," said Blondet, laughing.

"No; the poor child has been surprised and pursued, for the jug was
thrown outside the path," said the abbe, examining the ground.

"Yes, that is certainly La Pechina's step," said Michaud; "the print of
the feet, which have turned, you see, quickly, shows sudden terror. The
child must have darted in the direction of the pavilion, trying to get
back there."

Every one followed the traces wh