However, this morning I made up my mind.”
“And what did you decide upon, Mocquet?”
“Well, then, I made up my mind I would let fly at her with my gun.”
“That was a wise decision to come to. And when do you think of carrying it out?”
“This evening, or tomorrow at latest, General.”
“Confound it! And just as I was wanting to send you over to Villers-Hellon.”
“That won’t matter, General. Was it something that you wanted done at once?”
“Yes, at once.”
“Very well, then, I can go over to Villers-Hellon—it’s not above a few miles, if I go through the wood—and get back here this evening; the journey both ways is only twenty-four miles, and we have covered a few more than that before now out shooting, General.”
“That’s settled, then; I will write a letter for you to give to M. Collard, and then you can start.”
“I will start, General, without a moment’s delay.”
My father rose, and wrote to M. Collard; the letter was as follows:
“My dear Collard, “I am sending you that idiot of a keeper of mine, whom you know; he has taken into his head that an old woman nightmares him every night, and, to rid himself of