"Take care, Jean Oullier. I want to act a kind part, and I won't let myself quarrel with the label you choose to stick upon my acts. I came here with good intentions; it is for you not to let me leave this place with bad ones." "I care as little for your threats as I do for your our proposals, Courtin; remember that. But if you force me to repeat it I shall say it to the end of time." "Once more, Jean Oullier, listen to me. I will admit to you that I want to be rich. That is my whim, just as it is yours to be faithful as a dog to folks who don't care more for you than you do for your terrier. I thought I could be useful to your master, and I hoped he would not let my services go without reward. You say it is impossible. Then we'll say no more about it. But if the nobles whom you serve wished to show their gratitude to me in the way I ask I would rather do a service to them than to others; and I desire to tell you so once more." "Because you think that nobles would pay more for it than others. Isn't that it?" "Undoubtedly, _gars_ Oullier. I don't conceal anything from you, and I'll repeat that, as you say, to the end of time." "I shall not make myself the go-between in any such bargain, Maître Courtin. Besides, I have no power in the matter, and anything I could do for you is so small it isn't worth talking about." "Hey, how do you know that? You didn't know, my _gars_, that I knew all about what happened in the wood at Chabotière. Perhaps I could astonish you if I told you all I know." Jean Oullier was afraid of appearing afraid. "Come," said he, "enough of this. If you want to sell yourself apply to others. Such bargains are hateful to me, even if I had any means of making them. They don't concern me, God be thanked." "Is that your last word, Jean Oullier?" "My first and my last. Go your ways, Maître Courtin, and leave me to mine." "So much the worse for you," said Courtin, rising; "but, on my word, I would gladly have gone your way." So saying, he nodded to Jean Oullier and went out. He had hardly crossed the threshold before Aubin Courte-Joie, stumping along on his wooden legs, came close to Jean Oullier. "You have done a foolish thing," he whispered. "What ought I to have done?" "Taken him to Louis Renaud or to Gaspard; they would have bought him." "Him,--that wicked traitor?" "My good Jean, in 1815, when I was mayor, I went to Nantes, and there I saw a man named ----, who was, or had been, a minister; and I heard him say two things I have always remembered. One was that traitors make and unmake empires; the other was that treachery is the only thing in this world that is not to be measured by the size of him who makes it." "What do you advise me to do now?" "Follow and watch him." Jean Oullier reflected a moment. Then he rose. "I think you are right," he said. And he went out anxiously. XIX. THE FAIR AT MONTAIGU.