“Bah! old fox, you are joking, I fancy, with your orders,” said the young man, laughing at the steward; “understand that I am a young man of family, and that if you do not set me at liberty instantly, I will cut off your ears at the first opportunity.”
“Monsieur, this is a very strange tone, and I cannot allow——”
“Look you, old Arab, I see what you want! You are the steward, that tells the whole story; take this purse; there are fifteen louis in it; that is more than all your master’s kids are worth.”
As he spoke, the young man took from his pocket a purse, which the steward accepted without hesitation. Then, opening a little secret door, he said in an undertone:
“Go down this way into the garden; then turn to the right and you can go out through another gate that leads into the fields. I am endangering myself for you, but you have such engaging manners!”
The young huntsman did not wait to hear any more; he was already in the garden. The steward carefully locked the small door, then rang for a servant and ordered him to bring the other poacher before him.
They brought in the peasant, and the steward was left alone with him.
“Why do you hunt?” he asked the peasant, in a harsh voice and a sharp tone which bore no resemblance to that which he had assumed with the other prisoner.
“My good monsieur,” said the poor man, falling on his knees, “pray forgive me; it is the first time and I swear that it shall be the last.”
“These rascals always say the same thing!”