"How so?" asked the general.

"In the first place, because the less complicated a business is, the greater the profits to the owners," answered Sibilet. "Besides which, their income is more secure; and in all matters of rural improvement and development that is the main thing, as you will find out. Then, too, Monsieur Gaubertin is the friend and patron of working-men; he pays them well and keeps them always at work; therefore, though their families live on the estates, the woods leased to dealers and belonging to the land-owners who trust the care of their property to Gaubertin (such as MM. de Soulanges and de Ronquerolles) are not devastated. The dead wood is gathered up, but that is all--"

"That rascal Gaubertin has lost no time!" cried the general.

"He is a bold man," said Sibilet. "He really is, as he calls himself, the steward of the best half of the department, instead of being merely the steward of Les Aigues. He makes a little out of everybody, and that little on every two millions brings him in forty to fifty thousand francs a year. He says himself, 'The fires on the Parisian hearths pay it all.' He is your enemy, Monsieur le comte. My advice to you is to capitulate and be reconciled with him. He is intimate, as you know, with Soudry, the head of the gendarmerie at Soulanges; with Monsieur Rigou, our mayor at Blangy; the patrols are under his influence; therefore you will find it impossible to repress the pilferings which are eating into your estate. During the last two years your woods have been devastated.

Consequently the Gravelots are more than likely to win their suit. They say, very truly: 'According to the terms of the lease, the care of the woods is left to the owner; he does not protect them, and we are injured; the owner is bound to pay us damages.' That's fair enough; but it doesn't follow that they should win their case."

"We must be ready to defend this suit at all costs," said the general, "and then we shall have no more of them."

"You shall gratify Gaubertin," remarked Sibilet.

"How so?"

"Suing the Gravelots is the same as a hand to hand fight with Gaubertin, who is their agent," answered Sibilet. "He asks nothing better than such a suit. He declares, so I hear, that he will bring you if necessary before the Court of Appeals."

"The rascal! the--"

"If you attempt to work your own woods," continued Sibilet, turning the knife in the wound, "you will find yourself at the mercy of workmen who will force you to pay rich men's prices instead of market-prices. In short, they'll put you, as they did that poor Mariotte, in a position where you must sell at a loss. If you then try to lease the woods you will get no tenants, for you cannot expect that any one should take risks for himself which Mariotte only took for the crown and the State.

Suppose a man talks of his losses to the government! The government is a gentleman who is, like your obedient servant when he was in its employ, a worthy man with a frayed overcoat, who reads the newspapers at a desk. Let his salary be twelve hundred or twelve thousand francs, his disposition is the same, it is not a whit softer. Talk of reductions and releases from the public treasury represented by the said gentleman!

He'll only pooh-pooh you as he mends his pen. No, the law is the wrong road for you, Monsieur le comte."

"Then what's to be done?" cried the general, his blood boiling as he tramped up and down before the bench.

"Monsieur le comte," said Sibilet, abruptly, "what I say to you is not for my own interests, certainly; but I advise you to sell Les Aigues and leave the neighborhood."

On hearing these words the general sprang back as if a cannon-ball had struck him; then he looked at Sibilet with a shrewd, diplomatic eye.

"A general of the Imperial Guard running away from the rascals, when Madame la comtesse likes Les Aigues!" he said. "No, I'll sooner box Gaubertin's ears on the market-place of Ville-aux-Fayes, and force him to fight me that I may shoot him like a dog."

"Monsieur le comte, Gaubertin is not such a fool as to let himself be brought into collision with you. Besides, you could not openly insult the mayor of so important a place as Ville-aux-Fayes."

"I'll have him turned out; the Troisvilles can do that for me; it is a question of income."

"You won't succeed, Monsieur le comte; Gaubertin's arms are long; you will get yourself into difficulties from which you cannot escape."

"Let us think of the present," interrupted the general. "About that suit?"

"That, Monsieur le comte, I can manage to win for you," replied Sibilet, with a knowing glance.

"Bravo, Sibilet!" said the general, shaking his steward's hand; "how are you going to do it?"

"You will win it on a writ of error," replied Sibilet. "In my opinion the Gravelots have the right of it. But it is not enough to be in the right, they must also be in order as to legal forms, and that they have neglected. The Gravelots ought to have summoned you to have the woods better watched. They can't ask for indemnity, at the close of a lease, for damages which they know have been going on for nine years; there is a clause in the lease as to this, on which we can file a bill of exceptions. You will lose the suit at Ville-aux-Fayes, possibly in the upper court as well, but we will carry it to Paris and you will win at the Court of Appeals. The costs will be heavy and the expenses ruinous.

You will have to spend from twelve to fifteen thousand francs merely to win the suit,--but you will win it, if you care to. The suit will only increase the enmity of the Gravelots, for the expenses will be even heavier on them. You will be their bugbear; you will be called litigious and calumniated in every way; still, you can win--"

"Then, what's to be done?" repeated the general, on whom Sibilet's arguments were beginning to produce the effect of a violent poison.

Just then the remembrance of the blows he had given Gaubertin with his cane crossed his mind, and made him wish he had bestowed them on himself. His flushed face was enough to show Sibilet the irritation that he felt.

"You ask me what can be done, Monsieur le comte? Why, only one thing, compromise; but of course you can't negotiate that yourself. I must be thought to cheat you! We, poor devils, whose only fortune and comfort is in our good name, it is hard on us to even seem to do a questionable thing. We are always judged by appearances. Gaubertin himself saved Mademoiselle Laguerre's life during the Revolution, but it seemed to others that he was robbing her. She rewarded him in her will with a diamond worth ten thousand francs, which Madame Gaubertin now wears on her head."

The general gave Sibilet another glance still more diplomatic than the first; but the steward seemed to take no notice of the challenge it expressed.

"If I were to appear dishonest, Monsieur Gaubertin would be so overjoyed that I could instantly obtain his help," continued Sibilet. "He would listen with all his ears if I said to him: 'Suppose I were to extort twenty thousand francs from Monsieur le comte for Messrs. Gravelot, on condition that they shared them with me?' If your adversaries consented to that, Monsieur le comte, I should return you ten thousand francs; you lose only the other ten, you save appearances, and the suit is quashed."

"You are a fine fellow, Sibilet," said the general, taking his hand and shaking it. "If you can manage the future as well as you do the present, I'll call you the prince of stewards."

"As to the future," said Sibilet, "you won't die of hunger if no timber is cut for two or three years. Let us begin by putting proper keepers in the woods. Between now and then things will flow as the water does in the Avonne. Gaubertin may die, or get rich enough to retire from business; at any rate, you will have sufficient time to find him a compet.i.tor. The cake is too rich not to be shared. Look for another Gaubertin to oppose the original."

"Sibilet," said the old soldier, delighted with this variety of solutions. "I'll give you three thousand francs if you'll settle the matter as you propose. For the rest, we'll think about it."

"Monsieur le comte," said Sibilet, "first and foremost have the forest properly watched. See for yourself the condition in which the peasantry have put it during your two years' absence. What could I do? I am steward; I am not a bailiff. To guard Les Aigues properly you need a mounted patrol and three keepers."

"I certainly shall have the estate properly guarded. So it is to be war, is it? Very good, then we shall make war. That doesn't frighten me,"

said Montcornet, rubbing his hands.

"A war of francs," said Sibilet; "and you may find that more difficult than the other kind; men can be killed but you can't kill self-interest.

You will fight your enemy on the battle-field where all landlords are compelled to fight,--I mean cash results. It is not enough to produce, you must sell; and in order to sell, you must be on good terms with everybody."

"I shall have the country people on my side."

"By what means?"

"By doing good among them."

"Doing good to the valley peasants! to the petty shopkeepers of Soulanges!" exclaimed Sibilet, squinting horribly, by reason of the irony which flamed brighter in one eye than in the other. "Monsieur le comte doesn't know what he undertakes. Our Lord Jesus Christ would die again upon the cross in this valley! If you wish an easy life, follow the example of the late Mademoiselle Laguerre; let yourself be robbed, or else make people afraid of you. Women, children, and the ma.s.ses are all governed by fear. That was the great secret of the Convention, and of the Emperor, too."

"Good heavens! is this the forest of Bondy?" cried the general.

"My dear," said Sibilet's wife, appearing at this moment, "your breakfast is ready. Pray excuse him, Monsieur le comte; he has eaten nothing since morning for he was obliged to go to Ronquerolles to deliver some barley."

"Go, go, Sibilet," said the general.

The next morning the count rose early, before daylight, and went to the gate of the Avonne, intending to talk with the one forester whom he employed and find out what the man's sentiments really were.

Some seven or eight hundred acres of the forest of Les Aigues lie along the banks of the Avonne; and to preserve the majestic beauty of the river the large trees that border it have been left untouched for a distance of three leagues on both sides in an almost straight line. The mistress of Henri IV., to whom Les Aigues formerly belonged, was as fond of hunting as the king himself. In 1593 she ordered a bridge to be built of a single arch with shelving roadway by which to ride from the lower side of the forest to a much larger portion of it, purchased by her, which lay upon the slopes of the hills. The gate of the Avonne was built as a place of meeting for the huntsmen; and we know the magnificence bestowed by the architects of that day upon all buildings intended for the delight of the crown and the n.o.bility. Six avenues branched away from it, their place of meeting forming a half-moon. In the centre of the semi-circular s.p.a.ce stood an obelisk surmounted by a round shield, formerly gilded, bearing on one side the arms of Navarre and on the other those of the Countess de Moret. Another half-moon, on the side toward the river, communicated with the first by a straight avenue, at the opposite end of which the steep rise of the Venetian-shaped bridge could be seen. Between two elegant iron railings of the same character as that of the magnificent railing which formerly surrounded the garden of the Place Royale in Paris, now so unfortunately destroyed, stood a brick pavilion, with stone courses hewn in facets like those of the chateau, with a very pointed roof and window-casings of stone cut in the same manner. This old style, which gave the building a regal air, is suitable only to prisons when used in cities; but standing in the heart of forests it derives from its surroundings a splendor of its own.

A group of trees formed a screen, behind which the kennels, an old falconry, a pheasantry, and the quarters of the huntsmen were falling into ruins, after being in their day the wonder and admiration of Burgundy.

In 1595, the royal hunting-parties set forth from this magnificent pavilion, preceded by those fine dogs so dear to Rubens and to Paul Veronese; the huntsmen mounted on high-steeping steeds with stout and blue-white satiny haunches, seen no longer except in Wouverman's amazing work, followed by footmen in livery; the scene enlivened by whippers-in, wearing the high top-boots with facings and the yellow leathern breeches which have come down to the present day on the canvas of Van der Meulen.

The obelisk was erected in commemoration of the visit of the Bearnais, and his hunt with the beautiful Comtesse de Moret; the date is given below the arms of Navarre. That jealous woman, whose son was afterwards legitimatized, would not allow the arms of France to figure on the obelisk, regarding them as a rebuke.

At the time of which we write, when the general's eyes rested on this splendid ruin, moss had gathered for centuries on the four faces of the roof; the hewn-stone courses, mangled by time, seemed to cry with yawning mouths against the profanation; disjointed leaden settings let fall their octagonal panes, so that the windows seemed blind of an eye here and there. Yellow wallflowers bloomed about the copings; ivy slid its white rootlets into every crevice.

All things bespoke a shameful want of care,--the seal set by mere life-possessors on the ancient glories that they possess. Two windows on the first floor were stuffed with hay. Through another, on the ground-floor, was seen a room filled with tools and logs of wood; while a cow pushed her muzzle through a fourth, proving that Courtecuisse, to avoid having to walk from the pavilion to the pheasantry, had turned the large hall of the central building into a stable,--a hall with panelled ceiling, and in the centre of each panel the arms of all the various possessors of Les Aigues!

Black and dirty palings disgraced the approach to the pavilion, making square inclosures with plank roofs for pigs, ducks, and hens, the manure of which was taken away every six months. A few ragged garments were hung to dry on the brambles which boldly grew unchecked here and there. As the general came along the avenue from the bridge, Madame Courtecuisse was scouring a saucepan in which she had just made her coffee. The forester, sitting on a chair in the sun, considered his wife as a savage considers his. When he heard a horse's hoofs he turned round, saw the count, and seemed taken aback.

"Well, Courtecuisse, my man," said the general, "I'm not surprised that the peasants cut my woods before Messrs. Gravelot can do so. So you consider your place a sinecure?"