"Bullets? What did he want of them?" asked the anxious mother, trying to drive away the horrible suspicion that had suddenly presented itself to her mind. "Did he want them for hunting?" "Of course, madame; for M. Frederick told me that Jean François--you know Jean François, the farmer near Coudraie?" "Yes, yes, I know; go on." "It seems that Jean François told M. Frederick yesterday that a wild boar got into his garden a night or two ago, and ruined his potatoes; and M. Frederick told me he was going to station himself in a hiding-place that Jean François knew of, and kill the animal." "But that is so dangerous," cried Madame Bastien. "Frederick never shot at a boar in his life. If he misses, he is sure to be killed." "I don't think you need feel any anxiety, madame. M. Frederick is an excellent shot, and--" "Then my son is at the farmer's house now, I suppose?" "I presume so, as he is going with the farmer this evening." A quarter of an hour afterward the young mother, panting and breathless,--for she had run every step of the way,--knocked at the door of the farmhouse, where Jean François and his wife and children were seated around the fire. "Jean François, take me where my son is at once," cried Madame Bastien; then she added, reproachfully, "How could you allow a youth of his age to expose himself to such danger? But come, I entreat you, come, it may not be too late to prevent this imprudence on his part." The farmer and his wife exchanged looks of profound astonishment, then Jean François said: "Excuse me, madame, but I've no idea what you mean." "Didn't you complain to my son last night of a wild boar that had been ravaging your garden?" "Oh, the boars find so many nuts in the forest this year that they are not inclined to leave it. They have done us no damage up to the present time, thank Heaven." "But you urged my son to come and take a shot at some boar." "No, madame, no; I never even spoke of any boar to him." Overcome with dread and consternation, Marie stood perfectly silent and motionless for a moment. At last she murmured: "Frederick lied to André. And those bullets--my God!--those bullets, what did he intend to do with them?" The honest farmer, seeing Madame Bastien's intense anxiety, and thinking to reassure her at least in a measure, said to her: "I never said anything to M. Frederick about hunting boars, but if you want to find him, I think I know where he is." "You have seen him, then?" "Yes, madame. Madame knows that steep hill about a mile from the Vieille Coupe road, as you go to the château through the forest?" "Yes, yes; what of it?" "Why, just at dusk I was coming down that hill on my way home, when I saw M. Frederick come out of the forest and cross the road on the run." "How long ago was this?" "At least half an hour." "Jean François, you are a good man. I am in great trouble. Take me to the place where you saw my son, I implore you," pleaded the young mother.