Mauprat
at his master's feet, the hidalgo's sword across his knees near the dog, the light between us, my pistols ready to hand, my hunting-knife under my pillow, and the bolts shot. Nothing disturbed our repose. When the sun awakened us the cocks were crowing merrily in the courtyard, and the labourers were cracking their rustic jokes as they yoked the oxen under our windows.
"All the same there is something at the bottom of it."
Such was Marcasse's first remark as he opened his eyes, and took up the conversation where he had dropped it the night before.
"Did you see or hear anything during the night?" I asked.
"Nothing at all," he replied. "All the same, Blaireau has been disturbed in his sleep; for my sword has fallen down; and then, we have found no explanation of what happened here."
"Let who will explain it," I answered. " I shall certainly not trouble myself."
"Wrong, wrong; you are wrong!"
"That may be, my good sergeant; but I do not like this room at all, and it seems to me so ugly by daylight, that I feel that I must get far away from it, and breathe some pure air."
"Well, I will go with you; but I shall return. I do not want to leave this to chance. I know what John Mauprat is capable of; you don't."
"I do not wish to know; and if there is any danger here for myself or my friends, I do not wish you to return."
Marcasse shook his head and said nothing. We went round the farm once more before departing. Marcasse
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