It was in a sequestered spot near the lake. Chupin was tramping sullenly
along with his gun and glancing suspiciously on every side! Not that
he feared the game-keeper or a verbal process, but wherever he went, he
fancied he saw Balstain walking in his shadow, with that terrible knife
in his hand.
Seeing Mme. Blanche he tried to hide himself in the forest, but she
prevented it by calling:
"Father Chupin!"
He hesitated for a moment, then he paused, dropped his gun, and waited.
Aunt Medea was pale with fright.
"Blessed Jesus!" she murmured, pressing her niece's arm; "why do you
call that terrible man?"
"I wish to speak with him."
"What, Blanche, do you dare----"
"I must!"
"No, I cannot allow it. _I_ must not----"
"There, that is enough," said Blanche, with one of those imperious
glances that deprive a dependent of all strength and courage; "quite
enough."
Then, in gentler tones:
"I must talk with this man," she added.
"You, Aunt Medea, will remain at a little distance. Keep a close watch
on every side, and if you see anyone approaching, call me, whoever it
may be.
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