napkin, and swore in a soldierly fashion that he would not finish his

dinner without his host. He returned indeed to the salon; and as he
warmed himself by the fire, he thought over the troubles that no man

may escape, the troubles that are found in every lot that it falls to
man to endure here upon earth.

Benassis soon came back, and the two future friends sat down again.
"Taboureau has just come up to speak to you," said Jacquotte to her

master, as she brought in the dishes that she had kept hot for them.
"Who can be ill at his place?" asked the doctor.

"No one is ill, sir. I think from what he said that it is some matter
of his own that he wants to ask you about; he is coming back again."

"Very good. This Taboureau," Benassis went on, addressing Genestas,
"is for me a whole philosophicaltreatise; take a good look at him

when he comes, he is sure to amuse you. He was a laborer, a thrifty,
hard-working man, eating little and getting through a good deal of

work. As soon as the rogue came to have a few crowns of his own, his
intelligence began to develop; he watched the progress which I had

originated in this little district with an eye to his own profit. He
had made quite a fortune in eight year's time, that is to say, a

fortune for our part of the world. Very likely he may have a couple of
score thousand francs by now. But if I were to give you a thousand

guesses, you would never find out how he made the money. He is a
usurer, and his scheme of usury is so profoundly" target="_blank" title="ad.深深地">profoundly and so cleverly based

upon the requirements of the whole canton, that I should merely waste
my time if I were to take it upon myself to undeceive them as to the

benefits which they reap, in their own opinion, from their dealings
with Taboureau. When this devil of a fellow saw every one cultivating

his own plot of ground, he hurried about buying grain so as to supply
the poor with the requisite seed. Here, as everywhere else, the

peasants and even some of the farmers had no ready money with which to
pay for seed. To some, Master Taboureau would lend a sack of barley,

for which he was to receive a sack of rye at harvest time, and to
others a measure of wheat for a sack of four. At the present day the

man has extended this curious business of his all over the department;
and unless something happens to prevent him, he will go on and very

likely make a million. Well, my dear sir, Taboureau the laborer, an
obliging, hard-working, good-natured fellow, used to lend a helping

hand to any one who asked him; but as his gains have increased
MONSIEUR Taboureau has become litigious, arrogant, and somewhat given

to sharp practice. The more money he makes, the worse he grows. The
moment that the peasant forsakes his life of toil pure and simple for

the leisured existence of the landowning classes, he becomes
intolerable. There is a certain kind of character, partly virtuous,

partlyvicious, half-educated, half-ignorant, which will always be the
despair of governments. You will see an example of it in Taboureau. He

looks simple, and even doltish; but when his interests are in
question, he is certainly profoundly" target="_blank" title="ad.深深地">profoundly clever."

A heavy footstep announced the approach of the grain lender.
"Come in, Taboureau!" cried Benassis.

Thus forewarned by the doctor, the commandant scrutinized the peasant
in the doorway. Taboureau was decidedly thin, and stooped a little. He

had a bulging forehead, covered with wrinkles, and a cavernous face,
in which two small gray eyes with a dark spot in either of them seemed

to be pierced rather than set. The lines of the miser's mouth were
close and firm, and his narrow chin turned up to meet an exaggeratedly

hooked nose. His hair was turning gray already, and deep furrows which
converged above the prominent cheek-bones spoke of the wily shrewdness

of a horse-dealer and of a life spent in journeying about. He wore a
blue coat in fairly clean condition, the square side-pocket flaps

stuck out above his hips, and the skirts of the coats hung loose in
front, so that a white-flowered waistcoat was visible. There he stood

firmly planted on both feet, leaning upon a thick stick with a knob at
the end of it. A little spaniel had followed the grain-dealer, in

spite of Jacquotte's efforts, and was crouching beside him.
"Well, what is it?" Benassis asked as he turned to this being.

Taboureau gave a suspicious glance at the stranger seated at the
doctor's table, and said:

"It is not a case of illness, M. le Maire, but you understand how to
doctor the ailments of the purse just as well as those of the body. We

have had a little difficulty with a man over at Saint-Laurent, and I
have come to ask your advice about it."

"Why not see the justice of the peace or his clerk?"
"Oh, because you are so much cleverer, sir, and I shall feel more sure

about my case if I can have your countenance."
"My good Taboureau, I am willing to give medical advice to the poor

without charging for it; but I cannot look into the lawsuits of a man
who is as wealthy as you are for nothing. It costs a good deal to

acquire that kind of knowledge."
Taboureau began to twist his hat about.

"If you want my advice, in order to save the hard coin you would have
to pay to the lawyer folk over in Grenoble, you must send a bag of rye

to the widow Martin, the woman who is bringing up the charity
children."

"DAME! I will do it with all my heart, sir, if you think it necessary.
Can I talk about this business of mine without troubling the gentleman

there?" he added, with a look at Genestas.
The doctor nodded, so Taboureau went on.

"Well, then, sir, two months ago a man from Saint-Laurent came over
here to find me. 'Taboureau,' said he to me, 'could you sell me a

hundred and thirty-seven measures of barley?' 'Why not?' say I, 'that
is my trade. Do you want it immediately?' 'No,' he says, 'I want it

for the beginning of spring, in March.' So far, so good. Well, we
drive our bargain, and we drink a glass, and we agree that he is to

pay me the price that the barley fetched at Grenoble last market day,
and I am to deliver it in March. I am to warehouse it at owner's risk,

and no allowance for shrinkage of course. But barley goes up and up,
my dear sir; the barley rises like boiling milk. Then I am hard up for

money, and I sell my barley. Quite natural, sir, was it not?"
"No," said Benassis, "the barley had passed out of your possession,

you were only warehousing it. And suppose the barley had gone down in
value, would you not have compelled your buyer to take it at the price

you agreed upon?"
"But very likely he would not have paid me, sir. One must look out for

oneself! The seller ought to make a good profit when the chance comes
in his way; and, after, all the goods are not yours until you have

paid for them. That is so, Monsieur l'Officier, is it not? For you can
see that the gentleman has been in the army."

"Taboureau," Benassis said sternly, "ill luck will come to you. Sooner
or later God punishes ill deeds. How can you, knowing as much as you

do, a capable man moreover, and a man who conducts his business
honorably, set examples of dishonesty to the canton? If you allow such

proceedings as this to be taken against you, how can you expect that
the poor will remain honest people and will not rob you? Your laborers

will cheat you out of part of their working hours, and every one here
will be demoralized. You are in the wrong. Your barley was as good as

delivered. If the man from Saint-Laurent had fetched it himself, you
would not have gone there to take it away from him; you have sold

something that was no longer yours to sell, for your barley had
already been turned into money which was to be paid down at the

stipulated time. But go on."
Genestas gave the doctor a significant glance, to call his attention

to Taboureau's impassive countenance. Not a muscle had stirred in the
usurer's face during this reprimand; there was no flush on his

forehead, and no sign of emotion in his little eyes.