"
Galope-Chopine needed all his presence of mind to subdue his rage, and
not deny the accusation which his avarice had made a just one. He
contented himself with saying:--
"Monsieur is making game of me."
Corentin turned his back on the Chouan, but, while bowing to
Mademoiselle de Verneuil, whose heart stood still, he watched him in
the mirror behind her. Galope-Chopine, unaware of this, gave a glance
to Francine, to which she replied by pointing to the door, and saying,
"Come with me, my man, and we will settle the matter between us."
Nothing escaped Corentin, neither the fear which Mademoiselle de
Verneuil could not conceal under a smile, nor her color and the
contraction of her features, nor the Chouan's sign and Francine's
reply; he had seen all. Convinced that Galope-Chopine was sent by the
marquis, he caught the man by the long hairs of his goatskin as he was
leaving the room, turned him round to face him, and said with a keen
look: "Where do you live, my man? I want butter, too."
"My good monsieur," said the Chouan, "all Fougeres knows where I live.
I am--"
"Corentin!" exclaimed Mademoiselle de Verneuil, interrupting
Galope-Chopine. "Why do you come here at this time of day? I am
scarcely dressed. Let that peasant alone; he does not understand your
tricks any more than I understand the motive of them.
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