dog who scents a quail, but she saw him raised her head and said: "Was
that you singing like that?" He did not reply, however, but jumped down
into the road, although it was a fall of at least six feet and when she
saw him suddenly standing in front of her, she exclaimed: "Oh! dear, how
you frightened me!"

But he did not hear her, for he was drunk, he was mad, excited by
another requirement which was more imperative than hunger, more feverish
than alcohol; by the irresistible fury of the man who has been deprived
of everything for two months, and who is drunk; who is young, ardent and
inflamed by all the appetites which nature has implanted in the vigorous
flesh of men.

The girl started back from him, frightened at his face, his eyes,
his half-open mouth, his outstretched hands, but he seized her by the
shoulders, and without a word, threw her down in the road.

She let her two pails fall, and they rolled over noisily, and all the
milk was spilt, and then she screamed lustily, but it was of no avail in
that lonely spot.

When she got up the thought of her overturned pails suddenly filled her
with fury, and, taking off one of her wooden sabots, she threw it at the
man to break his head if he did not pay her for her milk.

But he, mistaking the reason of this sudden violent attack, somewhat
sobered, and frightened at what he had done, ran off as fast as he
could, while she threw stones at him, some of which hit him in the back.

He ran for a long time, very long, until he felt more tired than he had
ever been before. His legs were so weak that they could scarcely carry
him; all his ideas were confused, he lost recollection of everything and
could no longer think about anything, and so he sat down at the foot
of a tree, and in five minutes was fast asleep. He was soon awakened,
however, by a rough shake, and, on opening his eyes, he saw two cocked
hats of shiny leather bending over him, and the two gendarmes of the
morning, who were holding him and binding his arms.

"I knew I should catch you again," said the brigadier jeeringly. But
Randel got up without replying. The two men shook him, quite ready to
ill treat him if he made a movement, for he was their prey now. He had
become a jailbird, caught by those hunters of criminals who would not
let him go again.

"Now, start!" the brigadier said, and they set off. It was late
afternoon, and the autumn twilight was setting in over the land, and in
half an hour they