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Vermichel, Brunet's assistant, went to the Grand-I-Vert this morning, ostensibly after Pere Fourchon; and Marie Tonsard, who is intimate with Bonnebault, ran off at once to give the alarm at Conches. The depredations have begun again." "A strong show of authority is becoming daily more and more necessary," said Sibilet. "What did I tell you?" cried the general.
"Professional jealousy!" exclaimed Fourchon. "I'll bet you would like to get rid of Francois and take his place." "Hang it! he has twelve hundred francs wages," said Charles; "but they can't send him off, he knows the general's secrets." "Just as Madame Michaud knows the countess's," remarked Fourchon, watching the other carefully.
When Groison had got to a safe distance, Mother Tonsard made a sign, and the discussion began again on the question as to whether they should persist in gleaning, as before, without a certificate. "You'll have to give in," said Pere Fourchon; "for the Shopman has gone to see the prefect and get troops to enforce the order.
The paupers in this case, carefully selected by Courtecuisse, were scattered through five neighboring districts, whither Brunet betook himself duly attended by his satellites, Vermichel and Fourchon, to serve the writs. Later he transmitted the papers to Sibilet with a bill of costs for five thousand francs, requesting him to obtain the further orders of Monsieur le comte de Montcornet.
"It's your fault we've lost him!" he cried, as Blondet gave him a hand to pull him out, dripping like a triton, and a vanquished triton. "The rascal, I see him, under those rocks! He has let go his fish," continued Fourchon, pointing to something that floated on the surface. "We'll have that at any rate; it's a tench, a real tench."
"But these poor creatures suffer," said the countess, "and there is a great deal of truth in what old Fourchon has just screamed at us, for I cannot call it speaking." "Madame," replied Michaud, "do you suppose that for fourteen years the soldiers of the Emperor slept on a bed of roses?
A shirt of the same burlap which made the old man's trousers, thickened, however, by many darns, open in front showed a sun-burnt little breast. In short, the attire of the being called Mouche was even more startlingly simple than that of Pere Fourchon.
"He has earned his twenty francs, Monsieur le comte," said Sibilet; "the otter is fully worth it." "Give him twenty francs," said the general to the footman. "Do you mean to take my otter away from me?" said Blondet to the general. "I shall have it stuffed," replied the latter. "Ah! but that good gentleman said I might keep the skin," cried Fourchon.
"I'll bet your otter is made of tow," said Tonsard, looking slyly at his father-in-law. I can squeeze that rich young fellow at Les Aigues; may be he'll take to otters." "Go and get another bottle," said Tonsard to his daughter. "If your father really had an otter, he would show it to us," he added, speaking to his wife and trying to touch up Fourchon.
"The fault's his own; he tried to ride over everybody here, and upset everything; and the government will just say to him, 'Hush up." "The government never says anything else; it can't, poor government!" said Fourchon, seized with a sudden tenderness for the government.
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