were about to inflict upon their victim. Yet, a sort of bashfulness, or fear of men's opinion, prevented Kehlmark from interfering directly in favour of his protégé; he turned away and even refrained from speaking to him, but in romping with Claudie he raised his voice, and Guidon artlessly imagined that the Count wished him to hear. At last, the band decided to return to the village. The drum beat the retreat. After a last gathering on the grass, the little barefooted boys of Klaarvatsch ran off to relight their torches. The musicians assumed the head of the procession. The Count conducted them as far as the main gates, and there stood watching them, as to the measured sounds of their favourite march they disappeared down the great elm plantation stretching from the chateau to the village.
Claudie, skipping on to her father's arm, praised the Count of the Dyke to him, or rather lauded his fortune and his luxury, but without as yet confessing to the farmer the great project her mind had conceived.
Little Guidon, with head erect, played his part with unusual bravery. Whilst his bugle seemed to challenge the stars, he was all the time thinking of the master of Escal-
