It came rapidly onward, and soon overtook them. The peasants recognized
the coachman's livery, and greeted the vehicle with shouts of derision.

M. de Courtornieu, by his avariciousness, had made even more enemies
than the Duc de Sairmeuse; and all the peasants who thought they had
more or less reason to complain of his extortions were delighted at this
opportunity to frighten him.

For, that they were not thinking of vengeance, is conclusively proved by
the sequel.

Hence great was their disappointment when, on opening the carriage-door,
they saw within the vehicle only Mlle. Blanche and Aunt Medea, who
uttered the most piercing shrieks.

But Mlle. de Courtornieu was a brave woman.

"Who are you?" she demanded, haughtily, "and what do you desire?"

"You will know to-morrow," replied Chanlouineau. "Until then, you are
our prisoner."

"I see that you do not know who I am, boy."

"Excuse me. I do know who you are, and, for this very reason, I request
you to descend from your carriage. She must leave the carriage, must she
not, Monsieur d'Escorval?"

"Very well! I declare that I will not leave my carriage; tear me from it
if you dare!"

They would certainly have dared had it not been for Marie-Anne, who
checked some peasants as they were springing toward the carriage.

"Let Mademoiselle de Courtornieu pass without hinderance," said she.

But this permission might produce such serious consequences that
Chanlouineau found courage to resist.

"That cannot be, Marie-Anne," said he; "she will warn her father. We
must keep her as a hostage; her life may save the life of our friends."

Mlle. Blanche had not recognized her former friend, any more than she
had suspected the intentions of this crowd of men.

But Marie-Anne's name, uttered with that of d'Escorval enlightened her
at once.

She understood it all, and trembled with rage at the thought that she
was at the mercy of her rival. She resolved to place herself under no
obligation to Marie-Anne Lacheneur.

"Very well," said she, "we will descend."

Her former friend checked her.

"No," said she, "no! This is not the place for a young girl."

"For an honest young girl, you should say," replied Blanche, with a
sneer.

Chanlouineau was standing only a few feet from the speaker with his
gun in his hand. If a man had uttered those words he would have been
instantly killed. Marie-Anne did not deign to notice them.

"Mademoiselle will turn back," she said,