“Your little ones! your little ones! These rascals starve the whole province with their little ones!” “Pardi! monsieur l’intendant, your master raises more than fifty dogs, and it seems to me that I can raise four or five children.” “Fancy this wretch daring to compare his disgusting young ones with monseigneur’s greyhounds! Come, no arguing, you were caught poaching, your case is clear, and the theft is proved. You will be lashed, fined, and imprisoned!” “Oh! mercy, monsieur! it was only a rabbit!” “A rabbit, you scoundrel! a rabbit! Do you know what a rabbit is? Monseigneur preserves rabbits; I must avenge the one that you killed.” “Morgué! if it was for monsieur’s table----” “That’s a very different matter; it would be too happy to enter its master’s mouth; but you are a poacher.” “Have pity on my wife and children, monsieur l’intendant! We are so poor! there ain’t a sou in our house!” “You deserve to be hanged! Off with you, to prison, and to-morrow the lash.” The steward rang, the servants appeared, and the peasant was taken away despite his prayers and his tears. I had remained under the table, where I was fairly choking with indignation; when everybody had gone, I jumped out of the window and ran home, to tell my father all that I had heard. My story did not surprise him. It was only one proof more of the injustice and the barbarity of men. For my own part, I had my plan. I knew that the nobleman was to return next day, and I proposed to assure the punishment of the rascally steward. And so at daybreak I started for the château. When I arrived there, I saw the unfortunate peasant in the courtyard being pitilessly beaten by the servants, while the nobleman watched the spectacle from the balcony, giving biscuit to his Danish hound and sugar to his greyhound. “I am going to avenge you, goodman,” I said, as I passed the peasant; and I at once ran up the stairs four at a time and entered monseigneur’s apartments before the servants had had time to announce me. The steward was with his master, counting out money; I ran and threw myself at monseigneur’s feet; but in my eagerness I trod upon the paw of one of his favorites. The hound began to yelp and his master cast an angry glance at me, asking why I had been allowed access to him. Before anyone could reply, I began my story and told, almost without stopping for breath, all that I had heard the day before between the steward and the aristocratic huntsman. The old nobleman seemed a little surprised to learn that another poacher had been arrested; but the steward, who quivered with anger while I was speaking, made haste to tell his master that the young man was a marquis, and that he had thought that he ought not to detain him. “A marquis,” said the nobleman, taking a pinch of snuff, “a marquis! The devil! that’s so--of course we could not have him beaten; so the peasant must pay for both.” “That is what I thought, monseigneur.”