“He used cartridges, sir, of course. They sent him, I think, two thousand with the gun,—some for balls, some with large shot, and others with shot of every size. At this season, when hunting is prohibited, master could shoot nothing but rabbits, or those little birds, you know, which come to our marshes: so he always loaded one barrel with tolerably large shot, and the other with small-shot.”
But he stopped suddenly, shocked at the impression which his statement seemed to produce. Dionysia cried,—
“That is terrible! Every thing is against us!”
M. Folgat did not give her time to say any more. He asked,—
“My dear Anthony, did M. Galpin take all of your master’s cartridges away with him?”
“Oh, no! certainly not.”
“Well, you must instantly go back to Boiscoran, and bring me three or four cartridges of every number of shot.”
“All right,” said the old man. “I’ll be back in a short time.”
He started immediately; and, thanks to his great promptness, he reappeared at seven o’clock, at the moment when the family got up from dinner, and put a large package of cartridges on the table.
M. de Chandore and M. Folgat had quickly opened some of them; and, after a few failures, they found two numbers of shot which seemed to correspond exactly to the samples left them by the doctor.