s
contrasted strongly with his ruddy complexion; his aspect was severe, but
noble and imposing, in spite of his negligent dress, which showed that
indifference to matters of personal attire which becomes habitual with
country lords. His tall figure was beginning to grow stout, and that
increased his athletic appearance. He sat very erect in his saddle, and
from the way in which he straightened out his long legs against the sides
of his beast, one suspected that he could, if necessary, repeat the
Marshal de Saxe's feats of skill. He stopped his horse suddenly at the
very spot which the two men had just vacated and called out in a voice
which would startle a regiment of cuirassiers:
"Here, Lambernier!"
The carpenter hesitated a moment, at this imperative call, between the
fear which he could not overcome and shame at fleeing from a single man
in the presence of a witness; finally this last feeling triumphed. He
returned to the edge of the road without saying a word, and stationed
himself in an insolent way face to face with the Baron, with his hat
drawn down over his ears, and grasped through precaution the knotty stick
which served him as a weapon.
"Lambernier," said the master of the castle, in a severe tone, "your
account was settled yesterday; was it not paid in full? Is anything due
you?"
"I ask nothing of you," replied the workman, brusquely.
"In that case, why are you wandering about my place when I forbade you?"
"I am upon the highway, nobody can prevent me from passing there."
"You are upon my land, and you came out of my woods," replied the Baron,
emphasizing his words with the firmness of a man who would permit no
violation of his rights as a landowner.
"The ground upon which I walk is mine," said the workman, in his turn, as
he struck the end of his stick upon the ground as if to take possession.
This gesture attracted Bergenheim's attention, and his eyes flashed with
a sudden light at the sight of the stick which Lambernier held.
"You scoundrel!" he exclaimed, "you probably regard my trees also as your
own. Where did you cut that stick?"
"Go and find out," said the workman, accompanying his reply with a
flourish of the stick.
The Baron coolly dismounted, threw the bridle over his horse's neck,
walked up to the workman, who had taken the position of a practised
pugilist to receive him, and, without giving him time to strike, he
disarmed him with one hand by a blow which would have been
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