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The stranger’s embarrassment increased; he stammered,
‘He did not receive me either.’
The peasant’s countenance assumed an expression of
distrust; he surveyed the newcomer from head to feet, and
suddenly exclaimed, with a sort of shudder:—
‘Are you the man?—‘
He cast a fresh glance upon the stranger, took three steps
backwards, placed the lamp on the table, and took his gun
down from the wall.
Meanwhile, at the words, Are you the man? the woman
had risen, had clasped her two children in her arms, and
had taken refuge precipitately behind her husband, staring
in terror at the stranger, with her bosom uncovered, and
with frightened eyes, as she murmured in a low tone, ‘Tso-
m a r a u d e .’[1]
[1] Patois of the French Alps: chat de maraude, rascally
marauder.
All this took place in less time than it requires to picture
it to one’s self. After having scrutinized the man for several
moments, as one scrutinizes a viper, the master of the house
returned to the door and said:—
‘Clear out!’
‘For pity’s sake, a glass of water,’ said the man.
‘A shot from my gun!’ said the peasant.
Then he closed the door violently, and the man heard
him shoot two large bolts. A moment later, the window-
shutter was closed, and the sound of a bar of iron which was
placed against it was audible outside.
Night continued to fall. A cold wind from the Alps was