I did not long debate what I should do with the mischievous horde. I
went straight for the manor of Aulnières, thinking that I could
easily open the gates of the yard and drive the beasts in; after
which I would wake the farmers and they, when informed of the damage
done, would do as they saw fit.
I was just nearing the yard when, as it happened, I fancied I saw a
man running on the road behind me. I cocked my gun, thinking that if
he was the muleteer I should have a bone to pick with him. But it
was Joseph, on his way back to Aulnières after escorting Brulette to
the village.
"What are you doing here, Tiennet?" he said to me, coming up as fast
as he could run. "Didn't I tell you not to leave home to-night? You
are in danger of death; Let go that horse and don't meddle with those
mules. What can't be helped must be endured for fear of worse evils."
"Thank you, comrade," I answered. "Your fine friends pasture their
cavalry in my field and you expect me to say nothing! Very good,
very good! go your ways if you are afraid yourself, but as for me, I
shall see the thing out, and get justice done by law or might."
As I spoke, having stopped a moment to answer him, we heard a dog
bark in the distance, and José, seizing the rope by which I was
leading the horse, cried out:--
"Quick, Tiennet! here come the muleteer's dogs! If you don't want to
be torn in pieces, let go the horse; see, he hears them and you can't
do anything with him now."
Sure enough, the _clairin_ pricked his ears to listen; then laying
them back, which is a great sign of ill-temper, he began to neigh and
rear and kick, which brought all the mules capering round us, so that
we had scarcely time to get out of the way before the whole of them
rushed by at full speed in the direction of the dogs.
I was not satisfied to yield, however, and as the dogs, having called
in their wild troop, showed signs of making straight for us, I took
aim with my gun as if to shoot the first of the two that came at me.
But Joseph went up to the dog and made him recognize him.
"Ah! Satan," he said to him, "the fault is yours. Why did you chase
the hares into the wheat instead of watching your beasts? When your
master wakes up you will be whipped if you are not at your post with
Louveteau and the _clairin_."
Satan, understanding that he was being reproved for his behavior,
obeyed Joseph, who called him towards a large tract of waste land
where the mules could feed without doing any damage, and where
Joseph, as he told me, intended to watch them until their master
returned.
"Nevertheless, José," I said to him, "matters won't blow over as
quietly as you think for; and if you will not tell me where the owner
of these mules hides himself, I shall stay here and wait for him, and
say what I think to his face, and demand reparation for the harm
done."
"You don't know muleteers if you think it easy to get the better of
them," replied Joseph. "I believe it is the first time any of them
have ever passed this way. It is not their usual road; they commonly
come down from the Bourbonnais forests through those of Meillant and
L'Éspinasse into the Cheurre woods. I happened accidentally to meet
them in the forest of Saint-Chartier, where they were halting on
their way to Saint-Août; among them was the man who is here now,
whose name is Huriel, and who is on his way to the iron works of
Ardentes for coal and ore. He has been kind enough to come two hours
out of his way to oblige me. And it may be that, having left his
companions and the heath country through which the roads frequented
by men of his business run, where his mules can pasture without
injuring any one, he fancied he was just as free here in our
wheat-lands; and though he is altogether wrong, it would be best not
to tell him so."
"He will have to know what I think," I answered, "for I see now how
the land lays. Ho! ho! muleteers! we know what they are. You remind
me of things I have heard my godfather, Gervais the forester, tell
of. Muleteers are lawless men, wicked and ignorant, who would kill a
man with as little conscience as they would a rabbit. They think
they have a right to feed their beasts at the expense of the
peasantry, and if any one complains who is not strong enough to
resist them, they will come back later or send their comrades to kill
the poor man's cattle or burn his house, or worse; they live on
plunder, like thieves at a fair."
"As you have heard those things," said Joseph, "you must see that we
should be very foolish to draw down some great harm to the farmers
and my master and your family in revenge for a little one. I don't
defend what has been done, and when Maître Huriel told me he was
going to pasture his mules and camp at Nohant, as he does elsewhere
at all seasons, I told him about this bit of common and advised him
not to let his mules stray into the wheat-fields. He promised he
would not; for he is not at all ill-disposed. But his temper is
quick, and he wouldn't back down if a whole crowd of people fell upon
him. Please go back to your own property, keep clear of these
beasts, and don't pick a quarrel with anybody. If you are questioned
to-morrow, say you saw nothing; for to swear in a court of law
against a muleteer is quite as dangerous as to swear against a lord."
Joseph was right; so I gave in, and took the road towards home; but I
was not satisfied, for backing down before a threat is wisdom to old
men and bitter wrath to young ones.
As I neared the house, quite resolved not to go to bed, I fancied I
saw a light in it. I quickened my steps and finding the door, which
I had latched, wide open, I rushed in and saw a man in the
chimney-corner lighting his pipe by a blaze he had made. He turned
round and looked at me as quietly as if the house were his, and I
recognized the charcoal-blackened man whom Joseph called Huriel.
My wrath returned; and closing the door behind me I exclaimed as I
went up to him:--
"Well done! I am glad you have walked into the lion's den. I've a
couple of words to say to you."
"Three, if you like," he said, squatting on his heels and drawing
fire through his pipe, for the tobacco was damp and did not light
readily. Then he added, as if scornfully, "There's not even a pair
of tongs to pick up the embers."
"No," I retorted, "but there's a good cudgel to flatten you out with."
"And pray why?" he demanded without losing an atom of assurance.
"You are angry because I have entered your house without permission.
Why were not you at home? I knocked on the door and asked to light
my pipe, a thing no one ever refuses. Silence gives consent, so I
pulled the latch. Why did not you lock the door if you are afraid of
thieves? I looked at the beds and saw the house was empty; I lighted
my pipe, and here I am. What have you to say to that?"
So saying, as I tell you, he took up his gun as if to examine the
lock, but it was really as much as to say, "If you are armed, so am
I; two can play at that game."
I had an idea of aiming at him to make him respect me; but the longer
I looked at his blackened face the more I was struck with his frank
air and his lively, jovial eye, so that I ceased to be angry and felt
only piqued. He was a young man of twenty-five, tall and strong, and
if washed and shaved, would have been quite a handsome fellow. I put
my gun down beside the wall and went up to him without fear.
"Let us talk," I said, sitting down by him.
"As you will," he answered, laying aside his gun.
"Is it you they call Huriel?"
"And you Étienne Depardieu?"
"How do you know my name?"
"Just as you know mine,--from our little friend Joseph Picot."
"Then they are your mules that I have caught?"
"Caught!" he exclaimed, half-rising in astonishment. Then, laughing,
he added: "You are joking! you can't catch my mules."
"Yes, I can," I said, "if I catch and lead the horse."
"Ha! you have learned the trick?" he cried, with a defiant air. "But
how about the dogs?"
"I don't fear dogs when I've a gun in my hand."
"Have you killed my dogs?" he shouted, jumping up. His face flamed
with anger, which let me know that though he might be jovial by
nature he could be terrible at times.
"I might have killed your dogs," I replied, "and I might have led
your mules into a farmyard where you would have found a dozen strong
fellows to deal with. I did not do it because Joseph told me you
were alone, and that it was not fair for a mere piece of mischief to
put you in danger of losing your life. I agreed to that reason. But
now we are one to one. Your beasts have injured my field and my
sister's field, and what's more, you have entered my house in my
absence, which is improper and insolent. You will beg pardon for
your behavior and pay damages for my oats, or--"
"Or what?" he said, with a sneer.
"Or we will settle the matter according to the laws and customs of
Berry, which are, I think, the same as those of the Bourbonnais where
fists are lawyers."
"That is to say, the law of the strongest," he replied, turning up
his sleeves. "That suits me better than going before the justices,
and if you are really alone and don't play traitor--"
"Come outside," I said, "and you shall see that I am alone. You are
wrong to insult me in that way, for I might have shot you as I came
in. But guns are made to kill wolves and mad dogs. I didn't want to
treat you like a beast, and though you have a chance to shoot me at
this moment I think it cowardly for men to pepper each other with
balls when fists were given to human beings to fight with. As to
that, I don't think you are a greater fool than I, and if you have
got pluck--"
"My lad," he said, pulling me towards the fire to look at me,
"perhaps you are making a mistake. You are younger than I am, and
though you look pretty wiry and solid I wouldn't answer for that skin
of yours. I would much rather you spoke me fairly about your damages
and trusted to my honesty."
"Enough," I said, knocking his hat into the ashes to anger him; "the
best bruised of us two will get justice presently."