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When the harvest began the count went himself to Michaud to see how things were going on. Groison, who advised him to do this, was to be present himself at the gleaning of each particular field.

"They can't stop the gleaning," said the old woman. "I don't know that," remarked Madame Tonsard. "Groison said that the mayor was going to publish a notice that no one should glean without a certificate of pauperism; and who's to give that certificate? Himself, of course. He won't give many, I tell you!

The three keepers, with Michaud the bailiff, and Groison the field-keeper of Blangy, led henceforth the life of guerrillas.

The count, assisted by Groison, had given certificates of pauperism to only thirty or forty of the real poor of the district; but the other two mayors had been less strict. The more clement the count showed himself in the affair at Conches the more determined he was to enforce the laws about gleaning, which had now degenerated into theft.

Groison made the general understand that it was necessary to organize the defence on a war footing, and proved to him the insufficiency of his own devoted efforts and the evil disposition of the inhabitants of the valley. "There is something behind it all, general," he said; "these people are so bold they fear nothing; they seem to rely on the favor of the good God."

"Groison! there's another lucky fellow!" said Vaudoyer, "they've built him a house and given him a good wife, and he's got an income and clothes fit for a king. There was I, field-keeper for twenty years, and all I got was the rheumatism." "Yes, he's very lucky," said Godain, "he owns property " "And we go without, like the fools that we are," said Vaudoyer.

If she only had a thousand francs she could be married to a poor laborer named Godain, who knew all, and who loved her like a brother; he could buy a poor bit of ground and build a cottage if she had that sum. It was very touching. The countess promised the money; resolving to devote the price of some fancy to this marriage. The happy marriages of Michaud and Groison encouraged her.

At a quarter past ten Groison saw the whole company assembled at table, and Monsieur Michaud passed there on his way to Soulanges, which he reached at eleven. His horse reared between the two pavilions on the mail-road; but he may have been shot before reaching Blangy and yet have stayed in the saddle for some little time.

The general had already, under other circumstances, done a service to the brave cavalryman, whose name was Groison; the man, remembering it, now told him his troubles, admitting that he was penniless.

"Father's got gold!" whispered La Tonsard to her husband, whose voice was loudest in the uproar of the excited discussion, in which all present took part. "Hush! here's Groison," cried the old sentinel. Perfect silence reigned in the tavern.