by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER III
The Demon Wolf
Upon the first of these occasions Harry and Ernest were in highspirits, for they were to take part in the chase. It was the firsttime that Ernest had done so, for during the previous winter themarquis had been in attendance on the court. At an early hour theguests invited to take part in the chase began to assemble at thechateau. Many who lived at a distance had come overnight, andthe great court-yard presented a lively aspect with the horsesand attendants of the guests. A collation was spread in the greathall, and the marquise and her eldest daughter moved about amongthe guests saying a few words of welcome to each.
"Who is that young man who is talking to mademoiselle your sister,Ernest?" Harry asked, for since the adventure with the mad dog theceremonious title had been dropped, and the boys addressed eachother by their Christian names.
"That is Monsieur Lebat; he is the son of the Mayor of Dijon. Ihave not see him here before, but I suppose my father thinks it iswell in these times to do the civil thing to the people of Dijon.He is a good-looking fellow too, but it is easy to see he is nota man of good family."
"I don't like his looks at all," Harry said shortly. "Look what acringing air he puts on as he speaks to madame la marquise. And yetI fancy he could be insolent when he likes. He may be good-looking,but it is not a style I admire, with his thick lips and hishalf-closed eyes. If I met him at home I should say the fellow wassomething between a butcher and a Jew pedlar."
"Well done, monsieur the aristocrat!" Ernest said laughing. "Thisis your English equality! Here is a poor fellow who is allowed totake a place our of his station, thanks to the circumstances ofthe time, and you run him down mercilessly!"
"I don't run him down because he is not a gentleman," Harry said."I run him down because I don't like his face; and if he were theson of a duke instead of the son of a mayor I should dislike itjust as much. You take my word for it, Ernest, that's a bad fellow."
"Poor Monsieur Lebat!" Ernest laughed. "I daresay he is a verydecent fellow in his way.
"I am sure he is not, Ernest; he has a cruel bad look. I would nothave been that fellow's fag at school for any money.
"Well, it's fortunate, Harry, that you are not likely to see muchof him, else I should expect to see you flying at his neck andstrangling him as you did the hound."
Harry joined in the laugh.
"I will restrain myself, Ernest; and besides, he would be an awkwardcustomer; there's plenty of strength in those shoulders of his, andhe looks active and sinewy in spite of that indolent air he putson; but there is the horn, it is time for us to mount."
In a few minutes some thirty gentlemen were in the saddle, themarquis, who was grand louvetier of the province, blew his horn,and the whole cavalcade got into motion, raising their huntingcaps, as they rode off, to the marquise and her daughters, who werestanding on the step of the chateau to see them depart. The dogshad already been sent forward to the forest, which was some milesdistant.
On arriving there the marquis found several woodmen, who had beenfor the last two days marking the places most frequented by thewolves. They had given their reports and the party were just startingwhen a young forester rode up.
"Monsieur le marquis," he said, "I have good news for you; the demonwolf is in the forest. I saw him making his way along a glade anhour since as I was on my way thither. I turned back to follow him,and tracked him to a ravine in the hills choked with undergrowth."
The news created great excitement.
"The demon wolf!" the marquis repeated. "Are you sure?"
"Quite sure, monsieur. How could I mistake it! I saw him once fouryears ago, and no one who had once done so could mistake any otherwolf for him."
"We are in luck indeed, gentlemen," the marquis said. "We will seeif we can't bring this fellow's career to an end at last. I havehunted him a score of times myself since my first chase of him,well-nigh fifteen years ago, but he has always given us the slip."
"And will again," an old forester, who was standing close to Harry,muttered. "I do not believe the bullet is cast which will bringthat wolf to earth."
"What is this demon wolf?" Harry asked Ernest.
"It is a wolf of extraordinary size and fierceness. For many yearshe has been the terror of the mothers of this part of France. Hehas been known to go into a village and boldly carry off an infantin mid-day. Every child who has been killed by wolves for years isalways supposed to have been slain by this wolf. Sometimes he isseen in one part of the province, and sometimes in another.
"For months he is not heard of. Then there is slaughter among theyoung lambs. A child going to school, or an old woman carryinghome a faggot from the forest is found torn and partly devoured,and the news spreads that the demon wolf has returned to theneighbourhood. Great hunts have over and over again been got upspecially to slay him, but he seems to lead a charmed life. He hasbeen shot at over and over again, but he seems to be bullet-proof.
"The peasants regard him not as an ordinary wolf but as a demon,and mothers quiet their children when they cry by saying that ifthey are not good the demon wolf will carry them off. Ah, if wecould kill him to-day it would be a grand occasion!"
"Is there anything particular about his appearance?"
"Nothing except his size. Some of those who have seen him declarethat he is as big as three ordinary wolves; but my father, who hascaught sight of him several times, says that this is an exaggeration,though he is by far the largest wolf he ever saw. He is lighter incolour than other wolves, but those who saw him years ago say thatthis was not the case then, and that his light colour must be dueto his great age."
The party now started, under the guidance of the forester, to thespot where he had seen the wolf enter the underwood.
It was the head of a narrow valley. The sides which inclosed itsloped steeply, but not too much so for the wolf to climb. Duringthe last halt the marquis had arranged the plan of action. Hehimself, with three of the most experienced huntsmen, took theirstations across the valley, which was but seventy or eighty yardswide. Eight of the others were to dismount and take post on eitherside of the ravine.
"I am sorry, gentlemen, that I cannot find posts for the rest ofyou, but you may have your share of the work. Over and over againthis wolf has slipped away when we thought we had him surrounded,and what he has done before he may do again. Therefore, let each ofyou take up such a position as he thinks best outside our circle,but keeping well behind trees or other shelter, so as to coverhimself from any random shot that may be fired after the wolf. Doyou, on your part, fire only when the wolf has passed your line,or you may hit some of us."
The two lads were naturally among those left out from the innercircle.
"What do you think, Ernest; shall we remain on our horses here inthe valley or climb the hills?"
"I should say wait here, Harry; in the first place, because itis the least trouble, and in the second, because I think he is aslikely to come this way as any other. At any rate we may as welldismount here, and let horses crop that piece of fresh grass untilwe hear the horn that will tell us when the dogs have been turnedinto the thicket to drive him out."
It was half an hour before they heard the distant note of the horn.
"They have begun," Ernest exclaimed; "we had better mount at once.If the brute is still there he is just as likely, being such anold hand at the sport, to make a bolt at once, instead of waitinguntil the dogs are close to him."
"What are we to do if we see him?" Harry asked.
"We are to shoot him if we can. If we miss him, or he glides pastbefore we can get a shot, we must follow shouting, so as to guidethe rest as to the direction he is taking."
"My chance of hitting him is not great," Harry said. "I am not avery good shot even on my feet; but sitting in my saddle I do notthink it likely I should get anywhere near him."
A quarter of an hour passed. The occasional note of a dog and theshouts of the men encouraging them to work their way through thedense thicket could b
e heard, but no sound of a shot met theirears.
"Either he is not there at all, or he is lying very close," Ernestsaid.
"Look, look!" Harry said suddenly, pointing through the trees tothe right.
"That is the wolf, sure enough," Ernest exclaimed. "Come along."
The two lads spurred their horses and rode recklessly through thetrees towards the great gray beast, who seemed to flit like a shadowpast them.
"Mind the boughs, Ernest, or you will be swept from your saddle.Hurrah! The trees are more open in front."
But although the horses were going at the top of their speed theyscarcely seemed to gain on the wolf, who, as it seemed to them,kept his distance ahead without any great exertion.
"We shall never catch him," Harry exclaimed after they had riddenfor nearly half an hour, and the laboured panting of the horsesshowed that they could not long maintain the pace.
Suddenly, ten yards ahead of the wolf, a man, armed witha hatchet, stepped out from behind a tree directly in its way. Hewas a wood-cutter whose attention being called by the sound of thegalloping feet of the horses, had left his half-hewn tree and steppedout to see who was coming. He gave an exclamation of surprise andalarm as he saw the wolf, and raised his hatchet to defend himself.Without a moment's hesitation the animal sprang upon him andcarried him to the ground, fixing its fangs into his throat. Therewas a struggle for a few moments, and then the wolf left its lifelessfoe and was about to continue its flight.
"Get ready to fire, Harry," Ernest exclaimed as the wolf sprangupon the man, "it is our last chance. If he gets away now we shallnever catch him."
They reined in their horses just as the wolf rose to fly. Harryfired first, but the movement of his panting horse deranged his aimand the bullet flew wide. More accustomed to firing on horseback,Ernest's aim was truer, he struck the wolf on the shoulder, andit rolled over and over. With a shout of triumph the boys dashedforward, but when they were within a few paces the wolf leaptto its feet and endeavoured to spring towards them. Harry's horsewheeled aside so sharply that he was hurled from the saddle.
The shock was a severe one, and before he could rise to hisfeet the wolf was close upon him. He tried as he rose to draw hishunting-sword, but before he could do so, Ernest, who had, when hesaw him fall, at once leaped from his horse, threw himself beforehim, and dealt the wolf a severe blow on the head with his weapon.
Furious with rage and pain the wolf sprang upon him and seizedhim by the shoulder. Ernest dropped his sword, and drawing hishunting-knife struck at it, while at the same moment Harry ran itthrough the body.
So strong and tenacious of life was the animal that the blowswere repeated several times before it loosed its hold of Ernest'sshoulder and fell dead.
"Are you hurt, my dear Ernest?" was Harry's first exclamation.
"Oh, never mind that, that's nothing," Ernest replied. "Only think,Harry, you and I have killed the demon wolf, and no else had a handin it. There is a triumph for us."
"The triumph is yours, Ernest," Harry said. "He would have got awayhad you not stopped him with your bullet, and he would have madeshort work of me had you not come to my rescue, for I was halfstunned with the fall, and he would have done for me as quickly ashe did for that poor fellow there."
"That is true, Harry, but it was you who gave him his mortal wound.He would have mastered me otherwise. He was too strong for me, andwould have borne me to the ground. No, it's a joint business, andwe have both a right to be proud of it. Now let us fasten him on myhorse; but before we do that, you must bind up my shoulder somehow.In spite of my thick doublet he has bit me very sharply. But firstlet us see to this poor fellow. I fear he is dead."
It was soon seen that nothing could be done for the woodman, whohad been killed almost instantly. Harry, therefore, proceeded tocut off Ernest's coat-sleeve and bathed the wound. The flesh wasbadly torn, and the arm was so useless that he thought that somebones were broken. Having done his best to bandage the wound,he strapped the arm firmly across the body, so as to prevent itsbeing shaken by the motion of the riding. It was with the greatestdifficulty that they were able to lift the body of the wolf, butcould not lay it across the horse, as the animal plunged and kickedand refused to allow it to be brought near. Ernest was able toassist but little, for now that the excitement was over he feltfaint and sick with the pain of his wound.
"I think you had better ride off, Harry, and bring some one to ourassistance. I will wait here till you come back."
"I don't like to do that," Harry said. "They must be seven or eightmiles away, and I may not be able to find them. They may have movedaway to some other part of the forest. Ah! I have an idea! SupposeI cut a pole, tie the wolf's legs together and put the pole throughthem; then we can hoist the pole up and lash its ends behind thetwo saddles. The horses may not mind so much if it's not put upontheir backs."
"That might do," Ernest agreed; "but you mustn't make the pole morethan six or seven feet long, or we shall have difficulty in ridingbetween the trees."
The pole was soon cut and the wolf in readiness to be lifted, butthe horses still refused to stand steady.
"Blindfold them, Harry," Ernest said suddenly, "and tie them up totwo trees a few feet apart."
This was soon done, and the boys then patted and soothed them untilthey became quiet. The pole was now lifted, and this time theymanaged to lay it across the saddles and to lash it securely tothe cantles. Then they mounted, and taking the bandages off thehorses' eyes set out on their way. The horses were fidgety at first,but presently fell into a quiet walk.
For upwards of an hour they heard nothing of the huntsmen. Not asound broke the stillness of the forest; the sun was shining throughthe leafless trees, and they were therefore enabled to shape theircourse in the direction in which they had come. Presently theyheard the sound of a shot, followed by several others, and thenthe bay of hounds. The sound came from their left.
"They have been trying a fresh place," Ernest said, "and I expectthey have come upon two wolves; one they have shot, the hounds areafter the other."
They turned their horses' heads in the direction of the sounds,and presently Harry said:
"They are coming this way."
Louder and louder grew the sounds of the chase; then the deep tonesof the hounds were exchanged for a fierce angry barking.
"The wolf is at bay!" Ernest exclaimed.
A minute later some notes were sounded on the horn.
"That is the mort, Harry. We shall arrive before they move onagain."
Five minutes later they rode into a glade where a number of horsemenwere assembled. There was a shout as they were seen.
"Why, Ernest," the marquis called as they approached, "we thoughtyou had lost us. You have missed some rare sport; but what's thematter with your arm, and what have you got there?"
"We have got the demon wolf," Ernest replied; "so you haven't hadall the sport to yourselves."
There was a general exclamation of surprise and almost incredulity,and then every one rode over to meet them, and when it was seenthat the object slung between the two horses was really the demonwolf there was a shout of satisfaction and pleasure. Again thenotes of the mort rang out through the woods, and every one crowdedround the lads to congratulate them and to examine the dead monster.Ernest was lifted from his horse, for he was now reeling inthe saddle, and could not have kept his seat many minutes longer.His wound was carefully examined, and the marquis pronouncedthe shoulder-bone to be broken. A litter was made and four ofthe foresters hoisted him upon their shoulders, while four otherscarried the wolf, still slung on its pole, behind the litter. Whilethe preparations were being made Harry had given the history of theslaying of the wolf, saying that he owed his life to the quicknessand courage of Ernest.
"And I owe mine to him," Ernest protested from the bank where hewas lying. "The wolf would have killed me had he not slain it. Iwas lucky in stopping it with a ball, but the rest was entirely ajoint affair."
The slaying of the demon
wolf was so important an event that noone thought of pursuing the hunt further that day. The other twowolves were added to the procession, but they looked small andinsignificant beside the body of that killed by the boys. Harrylearned that no one had suspected that they had gone in pursuit ofthe wolf. A vigilant look-out had been kept all round the thicket,while the dogs hunted it from end to end, but no signs had been seenof it, and none were able to understand how it could have slippedbetween the watchers unseen.
After the ravine had been thoroughly beaten the party had movedoff to another cover. On their way there the marquis had missedthe two boys. No one had seen them, and it was supposed that theyhad loitered behind in the forest. Two or three notes of recall hadbeen blown, and then no one had thought more of the matter untilthey rode into the glade when the second wolf had just been pulleddown by the pack.
It was afternoon when the hunting party arrived at the chateau.Before they started homewards the marquis had sent off two horsemen;one to Dijon to bring a surgeon with all speed to the chateau,the other to tell the marquise that Ernest had been hurt, and thateverything was to be got in readiness for him; but that she was notto make herself uneasy, as the injury was not a serious one. Themessengers were charged strictly to say nothing about the death ofthe demon wolf.
The marquise and her daughters were at the entrance as the partyarrived. The sight of the litter added to the anxiety which Ernest'smother was feeling; but the marquis rode on a short distance aheadto her.
"Do not be alarmed, Julie," he said; "the lad is not very seriouslyhurt. He has been torn a bit by a wolf, and has behaved splendidly."
"The messenger said he had been hurt by a wolf, Edouard; but howcame he to put himself in such peril?"
"He will tell you all about it, my dear. Here he is to speak forhimself."
"Do not look so alarmed, mother," Ernest said as she ran down tothe side of the litter. "It is no great harm, and I should not haveminded if it had been ten times as bad."
"Bring up the wolf," the marquis said, "and Harry, do you comehere and stand by Ernest's side. Madam la marquise," he went on,"do you see that great gray wolf? That is the demon wolf which hasfor years been the terror of the district, and these are its slayers.Your son and M. Sandwith, they, and they alone, have reaped theglory which every sportsman in Burgundy has been so long strivingto attain; they alone in the forest, miles away from the hunt,pursued and slew this scourge of the province."
He put his horn to his lips. The others who carried similarinstruments followed his example. A triumphant traralira was blown.All present took off their hunting-caps and cheered, and the houndsadded their barking to the chorus.
"Is it possible, Edward," the marquise said, terrified at thethought of the danger her son must have run in an encounter withthe dreaded beast, "is it possible that these two alone have slainthis dreadful wolf?"
"It is quite possible, my dear, since it has been done, though,had you asked me yesterday, I should almost have said that it couldnot be; however, there it is. Ernest and his brave young friendhave covered themselves with glory; they will be the heroes of thedepartment. But we must not stay talking here. We must get Ernestinto bed as soon as possible. A surgeon will be here very shortly.I sent a messenger on to Dijon for one at the same time I sent toyou."
The marquis stayed outside for a few minutes while the domesticshanded round great silver cups full of spiced wine, and then biddinggood-bye to his guests entered the chateau just as the surgeon rodeup to the entrance.
"Please tell us all about it," his daughters asked him when,having seen the surgeon set the broken bone and bandage the wound,operations which Ernest bore with stoical firmness, he went downto the salon where his daughters were anxiously expecting him. "Allabout it, please. We have heard nothing, for Harry went upstairswith Ernest, and has not come down again."
The marquis told the whole story, how the wolf had made his escapeunseen through the cordon round his lair, and had passed within thesight of the two boys some distance away, and how they had huntedit down and slain it. The girls shuddered at the story of the deathof the wood-cutter and the short but desperate conflict with thewolf.
"Then Ernest has the principal honour this time," the eldest girlsaid.
"It is pretty evenly divided," the marquis said. "You see Ernestbrought the wolf to bay by breaking its shoulder, and struck thefirst blow as it was flying upon Harry, who had been thrown fromhis horse. Then, again, Ernest would almost certainly have beenkilled had not Harry in his turn come to his assistance and dealtit its mortal blows. There is not much difference, but perhaps thechief honours rest with Ernest."
"I am glad of that, papa," Mademoiselle de St. Caux said; "it isonly right the chief honour should be with your son and not withthis English boy. He has had more than his share already, I think."
"You would not think so if he had saved your life, sister," Jeannebroke in impetuously. "It was very brave of them both to kill thewolf; but I think it was ever, ever so much braver to attack agreat mad dog without weapons. Don't you think so, papa?"
"I don't think you should speak so warmly to your elder sister,Jeanne," the marquis said; "she is a grown-up young lady, and youare in the school-room. Still, in answer to your question, I admitthat the first was very much the braver deed. I myself should haveliked nothing better than to stand before that great wolf with myhunting sword in my hand; but although if I had been near you whenthe hound attacked you, I should doubtless have thrown myself beforeyou, I should have been horribly frightened and should certainlyhave been killed; for I should never have thought of or carried sopromptly out the plan which Harry adopted of muzzling the animal.But there is no need to make comparisons. On the present occasionboth the lads have behaved with great bravery, and I am proud thatErnest is one of the conquerors of the demon wolf. It will starthim in life with a reputation already established for courage.Now, come with me and have a look at the wolf. I don't think sucha beast was ever before seen in France. I am going to have himstuffed and set up as a trophy. He shall stand over the fireplacein the hall, and long after we have all mouldered to dust ourdescendants will point to it proudly, telling how a lad of theirrace, with another his own age, slew the demon wolf of Burgundy."
Ernest was confined to his bed for nearly a month, and duringthis time Harry often went long rides and walks by himself. In theevening the marquis frequently talked with him over the situationof the country and compared the events which had taken place withthe struggle of the English parliament with the king.
"There was one point of difference between the two cases," he saidone evening. "In England the people had already great power inthe state. The parliament had always been a check upon the royalauthority; and it was because the king tried to overrule parliamentthat the trouble came about. Here our kings, or at least the ministersthey appointed, have always governed; often unwisely I admit, butis it likely that the mob would govern better? That is the question.At present they seem bent on showing their incapacity to governeven themselves."
The Marquis de St. Caux had, in some respects, the thoughts andopinions of the old school. He was a royalist pure and simple. Asto politics, he troubled his head little about them. These were amatter for ministers. It was their business to find a remedy forthe general ills. As to the National Assembly which representedonly the middle class and people, he regarded it with contempt.
"Why, it was from the middle class," he said, "that the oppressorsof the people were drawn. It is they who were farmers-general,collectors, and officials of all kinds. It is they who grounddown the nation and enriched themselves with the spoil. It is notthe nobles who dirtied their hands with money wrung from the poor.By all means let the middle class have a share in the government;but it is not a share they desire. The clergy are to have no voice;the nobility are to have no voice; the king himself is to be acipher. All power is to be placed in the hands of these men, thechosen of the scum of the great towns, the mere mouthpieces of theignorant mob. It is not order that t
hese gentry are organizing, itis disorder."
Such were the opinions of the marquis, but he was tolerant of otherviews, and at the gatherings at the chateau Harry heard opinionsof all kinds expressed.
During his rambles alone he entered as much as he could intoconversation with the peasants, with woodcutters, foresters, andvillagers. He found that the distress which prevailed everywherewas terrible. The people scarcely kept life together, and manyhad died of absolute starvation. He found a feeling of despaireverywhere, and a dull hatred of all who were above them in theworld. Harry had difficulty in making them talk, and at first couldobtain only sullen monosyllables. His dress and appearance showedhim to belong to the hated classes, and set them against him atonce; but when he said that he was English, and that in Englandpeople were watching with great interest what was passing in France,they had no hesitation in speaking.
Harry's motives in endeavouring to find out what were the feelingsof the people at large, were not those of mere curiosity. He wasnow much attached to the marquis and his family; and the reportswhich came from all parts of France, as well as from Paris, togetherwith the talk among the visitors at the chateau, convinced him thatthe state of affairs was more serious than the marquis was inclinedto admit. The capture of the Bastille and the slaughter of itsdefenders--the massacres of persons obnoxious to the mob, not onlyin the streets of Paris but in those of other great towns, provedthat the lower class, if they once obtained the upper hand, wereready to go all lengths; while the number of the nobility who wereflocking across the frontier showed that among this body thereexisted grievous apprehensions as to the future.
Harry had read in a book in the library of the chateau an accountof the frightful excesses perpetrated by the Jacquerie. That dreadfulinsurrection had been crushed out by the armour-clad knights ofFrance; but who was to undertake the task should such a flame againburst out? The nobles no longer wore armour, they had no armedretainers; they would be a mere handful among a multitude. Thearmy had already shown its sympathy with the popular movement, andcould not be relied upon. That the marquis himself should face outany danger which might come seemed to Harry right and natural; buthe thought that he was wrong not to send his wife and daughters, andat any rate Jules, across the Rhine until the dangers were passed.
But the marquis had no fears. Some one had mentioned the Jacqueriein one of their conversations, but the marquis had put it aside asbeing altogether apart from the question.
"The Jacquerie took place," he said, "hundreds of years ago. Thepeople then were serfs and little more than savages. Can we imagineit possible that at this day the people would be capable of suchexcesses?"
The answer of the gentleman he addressed had weighed little withthe marquis, but Harry thought over it seriously.
"Civilization has increased, marquis, since the days of the Jacquerie,but the condition of the people has improved but little. Even nowthe feudal usages are scarce extinct. The lower class have beenregarded as animals rather than men; and the increase of civilizationwhich you speak of, and from which they have received no benefit,makes them hate even more bitterly than of old those in positionabove them.
"I am a reformer; I desire to see sweeping changes; I want a good,wise, and honest government; and I desire these things becauseI fear that, if they do not come peacefully they will come in atempest of lawlessness and vengeance."
"Well, they are getting all they want," the marquis said peevishly."They are passing every law, however absurd, that comes into theirhands. No one is opposing them. They have got the reins in theirown hands. What on earth can they want more? There might have beenan excuse for rebellion and riot two years since--there can benone now. What say you, abbe?"
The abbe seldom took part in conversations on politics, but, beingnow appealed to, he said mildly:
"We must allow for human nature, monsieur. The slave who findshimself free, with arms in his hands, is not likely to settle downat once into a peaceful citizen. Men's heads are turned with thechanges the last two years have brought about. They are drunk withtheir own success, and who can say where they will stop? So farthey find no benefit from the changes. Bread is as dear as ever,men's pockets are as empty. They thought to gain everything--theyfind they have got nothing; and so they will cry for more and morechange, their fury will run higher and higher with each disappointment,and who can say to what lengths they will go? They have alreadyconfiscated the property of the church, next will come that of thelaity."
"I had no idea you were such a prophet of evil, abbe," the marquissaid with an uneasy laugh, while feelings of gloom and anxiety fellover the others who heard the abbe's words.
"God forbid that I should be a prophet!" the old man said gravely."I hope and trust that I am mistaken, and that He has not reservedthis terrible punishment for France. But you asked me for my opinion,marquis, and I have given it to you."
Despite these forebodings the winter of 1790 passed withoutdisturbance at the chateau.
In the spring came news of disorder, pillage, and acts of ruffianismin various parts. Chateaux and convents were burned and destroyed,and people refused to pay either their taxes or rents to theirlandlords. In the south the popular excitement was greater than inother parts. In Burgundy there was for the most part tranquility;and the marquis, who had always been regarded as an indulgentseigneur by the people of his estate, still maintained that thesetroubles only occurred where the proprietors had abused theirprivileges and ground down the people.