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"Well," said Laroche to Vaudoyer, "I tell you that if they make a single prisoner at Conches one gendarme shall fall." "He has said it, old Laroche!" cried Courtecuisse. "He has said it," remarked Vaudoyer, "but he hasn't done it, and he won't do it. What good would it do to get yourself guillotined for some gendarme or other? No, if you kill, I say, kill Michaud."
"The damned abbe, of course," said Tonsard; "that hunter after sins, who thinks the host is food enough for us." "That's true," cried Vaudoyer; "we were happy enough till he came. We ought to get rid of that eater of the good God, he's the real enemy."
Soudry, being appealed to, sent Vaudoyer to Gaubertin, who received his old acquaintance very cordially, and invited him to drink while listening to the recital of his troubles. "My dear friend," said the mayor of Ville-aux-Fayes, who could talk to every man in his own language, "what has happened to you is likely to happen to us all. The nobles are back upon us.
"It was Michaud's testimony which got her that." One Saturday evening, Courtecuisse, Bonnebault, Godain, Tonsard, his daughters, wife, and Pere Fourchon, also Vaudoyer and several mechanics were supping at the tavern. The moon was at half-full, the first snow had melted, and frost had just stiffened the ground so that a man's step left no traces.
Accustomed to get a good proportion of wheat in their gleaning, the false as well as the true poor, forgetting the count's pardon at Conches, now felt a deep but silent anger against him, which was aggravated by the Tonsards, Courtecuisse, Bonnebault, Laroche, Vaudoyer, Godain, and their adherents.
"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 Monsieur le comte knows what he's about and leases the woods to the receiver-general it is all up with our schemes, 'Farewell baskets, the vintage is o'er'; in that case you will lose more than I. What we say here is between ourselves and for ourselves; for I certainly wouldn't say a word to Vaudoyer that I couldn't repeat to God and man.
Monsieur le comte should have himself chosen mayor, and appoint one of his old soldiers, who would have the courage to carry out his orders, in place of Vaudoyer. A great land-owner should be master in his own district. Just see what difficulties we have with the present mayor!"
"In any case the Shopman would give them to stop the talk it would make," said Godain. Vaudoyer, the former field-keeper, a man five feet six inches tall, with a face pitted with the small-pox and furrowed like a nut-cracker, kept silence with a hesitating air. "Well, you old ninny, does that ruffle you?" asked Tonsard, attracted by the idea of damages.
"He has saddled his horse and is going for the doctor at Soulanges." "Sit down," said Tonsard, giving her his place at the table, and going himself to lie on a bench. Just then the gallop of a horse passing rapidly along the road was heard. Tonsard, Courtecuisse, and Vaudoyer went out hurriedly, and saw Michaud on his way to the village.
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