“Cavalier had hardly changed. He withstood time like an old tree; but Celeste, especially in the past four years, had become unrecognizable. “She was bent almost double, and, although still active, when she walked her body was almost at right angles to her legs. “The old woman, who was very devoted to me, always seemed affected at seeing me again, and each time, as I left, she would say: “'This may be the last time, master.' “The sad, timid farewell of this old servant, this hopeless resignation to the inevitable fate which was not far off for her, moved me strangely each year. “I dismounted, and while Cavalier, whom I had greeted, was leading my horse to the little shed which served as a stable, I entered the kitchen, which also served as dining-room, followed by Celeste. “Here the gamekeeper joined us. I saw at first glance that something was the matter. He seemed preoccupied, ill at ease, worried. “I said to him: “'Well, Cavalier, is everything all right?' “He muttered: “'Yes and no. There are things I don't like.' “I asked: “'What? Tell me about it.' “But he shook his head. “'No, not yet, monsieur. I do not wish to bother you with my little troubles so soon after your arrival.' “I insisted, but he absolutely refused to give me any information before dinner. From his expression, I could tell that it was something very serious. “Not knowing what to say to him, I asked: “'How about game? Much of it this year?' “'Oh, yes! You'll find all you want. Thank heaven, I looked out for that.' “He said this with so much seriousness, with such sad solemnity, that it was really almost funny. His big gray mustache seemed almost ready to drop from his lips. “Suddenly I remembered that I had not yet seen his nephew. “'Where is Marius? Why does he not show himself?' “The gamekeeper started, looking me suddenly in the face: “Well, monsieur, I had rather tell you the whole business right away; it's on account of him that I am worrying.' “'Ah! Well, where is he?' “'Over in the stable, monsieur. I was waiting for the right time to bring him out.' “'What has he done?' “'Well, monsieur----' “The gamekeeper, however, hesitated, his voice altered and shaky, his face suddenly furrowed by the deep lines of an old man. “He continued slowly: “'Well, I found out, last winter, that someone was poaching in the woods of Roseraies, but I couldn't seem to catch the man. I spent night after night on the lookout for him. In vain. During that time they began poaching over by Ecorcheville. I was growing thin from vexation. But as for catching the trespasser, impossible! One might have thought that the rascal was forewarned of my plans. “'But one day, while I was brushing Marius' Sunday trousers, I found forty cents in his pocket. Where did he get it? “'I thought the matter over for about a week, and I noticed that he used to go out; he would leave the house just as I was coming home to go to bed--yes, monsieur.