ve; the shame and
condemnation that would fall upon him and his, did not make him hesitate
for a moment.

He saw but one thing--the reward--the blood-money.

Unfortunately, he had nothing whatever to guide him in his researches;
no clew, however vague.

All that was known in Montaignac was that M. Lacheneur's horse was
killed at the Croix d'Arcy.

But no one knew whether Lacheneur himself had been wounded, or whether
he had escaped from the fray uninjured. Had he reached the frontier? or
had he found an asylum in the house of one of his friends?

Chupin was thus hungering for the price of blood, when, on the day
of the trial, as he was returning from the citadel, after making his
deposition, he entered a drinking saloon. While there he heard the name
of Lacheneur uttered in low tones near him.

Two peasants were emptying a bottle of wine, and one of them, an old
man, was telling the other that he had come to Montaignac to give Mlle.
Lacheneur news of her father.

He said that his son-in-law had met the chief conspirator in the
mountains which separate the _arrondissement_ of Montaignac from Savoy.
He even mentioned the exact place of meeting, which was near Saint
Pavin-des-Gottes, a tiny village of only a few houses.

Certainly the worthy man did not think he was committing a dangerous
indiscretion. In his opinion, Lacheneur had, ere this, crossed the
frontier, and was out of danger.

In this he was mistaken.

The frontier bordering on Savoy was guarded by soldiers, who had
received orders to allow none of the conspirators to pass.

The passage of the frontier, then, presented many great difficulties,
and even if a man succeeded in effecting it, he might be arrested and
imprisoned on the other side, until the formalities of extradition had
been complied with.

Chupin saw his advantage, and instantly decided on his course.

He knew that he had not a moment to lose. He threw a coin down upon the
counter, and without waiting for his change, rushed back to the citadel,
and asked the sergeant at the gate for pen and paper.

The old rascal generally wrote slowly and painfully; to-day it took him
but a moment to trace these lines:

"I know Lacheneur's retreat, and beg monseigneur to order some mounted
soldiers to accompany me, in order to capture him. Chupin."

This note was given to one of the guards, with a request to take it to
the Duc de Sairmeuse, who was presiding over the military commission.