"Does your cousin know what men there are in or about the house?"
"I know," Jean replied. Whereon, peasant-like, he began to count upon his fingers.
"First," he said, "the wolf himself, if he is there. Next, Beaujos, the steward. Then, one, two, three, four serving-men--ma foi! I cannot think of more. Outside, those who attend to the horses and dogs, away in the écurie."
"Where is this écurie?"
"Near the house, to the right of it. There are no more."
"There is your cousin."
"Oh! for him, he counts not. He sleeps not there, but in Remiremont, to the other side. Also, I have spoken to him. Told him danger threatens the wolf. He is glad; he hates him, too."
"Is he safe?"
"Safe! Mon Dieu! He is of my blood. We all hate him. He will say no word."
After that Andrew bade the man good-night, making an appointment with him for the next evening at the same hour.