“I think,” said Michaud, seeing that the general looked thoughtful, “that if you are willing to spend a good deal of money you can still protect the property.”
“It is better to spend money than to act harshly,” remarked Sibilet.
“What is your plan?” asked the general of his bailiff.
“It is very simple,” said Michaud. “Inclose the whole forest with walls, like those of the park, and you will be safe; the slightest depredation then becomes a criminal offence and is taken to the assizes.”
“At a franc and a half the square foot for the material only, Monsieur le comte would find his wall would cost him a third of the whole value of Les Aigues,” said Sibilet, with a laugh.
“Well, well,” said Montcornet, “I shall go and see the attorney-general at once.”
“The attorney-general,” remarked Sibilet, gently, “may perhaps share the opinion of his subordinate; for the negligence shown by the latter is probably the result of an agreement between them.”
“Then I wish to know it!” cried Montcornet. “If I have to get the whole of them turned out, judges, civil authorities, and the attorney-general to boot, I’ll do it; I’ll go the Keeper of the Seals, or to the king himself.”
At a vehement sign made by Michaud the general stopped short and said to Sibilet, as he turned to retrace his steps, “Good day, my dear fellow,”—words which the steward understood.
“Does Monsieur le comte intend, as mayor, to enforce the necessary measures to repress the abuse of gleaning?” he said, respectfully. “The harvest is coming on, and if we are to publish the statutes about certificates of pauperism and the prevention of paupers from other districts gleaning our land, there is no time to be lost.”