“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 competitor. 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 masses 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.