see plainly, how often Marie-Anne has filled your
empty larder--and now you take your revenge."

The miserable wretch seemed crushed. Now that he had done this foul
deed, he knew what treason really was.

"So be it," said M. Lacheneur. "You will receive the price of my blood;
but it will not bring you good fortune--traitor!"

But Chupin, indignant with himself for his weakness, was already trying
to shake off the fear that mastered him.

"You have conspired against the King," he stammered. "I have done only
my duty in denouncing you."

And turning to the soldiers, he said:

"As for you, comrades, you may rest assured that the Duc de Sairmeuse
will testify his gratitude for your services."

They had bound Lacheneur's hands, and the party were about to
descend the mountain, when a man appeared, bareheaded, covered with
perspiration, and panting for breath.

Twilight was falling, but M. Lacheneur recognized Balstain.

"Ah! you have him!" he exclaimed, as soon as he was within hearing
distance, and pointing to the prisoner. "The reward belongs to me--I
denounced him first on the other side of the frontier. The gendarmes at
Saint-Jean-de-Coche will testify to that. He would have been captured
last night in my house, but he ran away in my absence; and I have been
following the bandit for sixteen hours."

He spoke with extraordinary vehemence and volubility, beside himself
with fear lest he was about to lose his reward, and lest his treason
would bring him nothing save disgrace and obloquy.

"If you have any right to the reward, you must prove it before the
proper authorities," said the officer in command.

"If I have any right!" interrupted Balstain; "who contests my right,
then?"

He looked threateningly around, and his eyes fell on Chupin.

"Is it you?" he demanded. "Do you dare to assert that you discovered the
brigand?"

"Yes, it was I who discovered his hiding-place."

"You lie, impostor!" vociferated the innkeeper; "you lie!"

The soldiers did not move. This scene repaid them for the disgust they
had experienced during the afternoon.

"But," continued Balstain, "what else could one expect from a vile knave
like Chupin? Everyone knows that he has been obliged to flee from France
a dozen times on account of his crimes. Where did you take refuge when
you crossed the frontier, Chupin? In my house, in the inn kept by honest
Balstain. You were fed and protected there. How many times have I saved
you fr