"Is that why they are so wonderfully well kept? Frankly, I'd prefer another signature."
"Whose?"
"Yours, or that of the minister with whom you are dealing."
"Well, we'll try to satisfy you."
"Hush!"
"What?"
"Don't you hear something?"
"Yes; some one is coming this way. I think I hear the wheels of a cart."
The two men rose at once, and by the light of the moon, which was then shining, Jean Oullier, who had not lost a single word of the conversation, saw their faces. One of the men was a stranger to him; the other proved to be Courtin,--a fact he knew already by the tones of the farmer's voice and the mention he had made of Michel and the "she-wolves."
"Let us go," said the stranger.