"When it's autumn," Benoît continued, "he'll be hunting with the Germans, but I'll be back, I will, back to your grounds and I won't care if it's rabbits or foxes I get. You can have your groundsmen, your gamekeepers and your dogs chase after me as much as you want; they won't be as clever as Benoît Sabarie! They've been running after me plenty all winter without catching me!"

"I won't go and get the groundsman or the gamekeepers, I'll get the Germans. They scare you, don't they? You can show off all you like, but when you see a German uniform, you keep your head down."

"Listen, I've seen them Boches up close, I have, in Belgium and at the Somme. I'm not like your husband. Where was he during the war? In an office, where he could treat everyone like shit."

"You vulgar little man!"

"In Chalon-sur-Saône, that's where he was, your husband, from September 'til the day the Germans arrived. Then he cleared off. That's his idea of war."

"You are… you are repulsive. Get out of here or I'll scream. Get out of here or I'll call them!"

"That's it, call the Boches. You must be really glad they're here, eh? They're like the police, they watch your property. You'd better pray to the Good Lord that they stay a long time because the day they leave…"

He left his sentence unfinished. Quickly grabbing his shoes, the evidence, from her hands, he put them on, climbed over the wall and disappeared. Almost immediately she heard the sound of German footsteps getting closer.

"Oh, I really hope they caught him. I really hope they've killed him," the Viscountess said to herself as she ran towards the château. "What a man! What a species! What vile people! That's what Bolshevism is, exactly that. My God, what has happened to everyone? When Papa was alive, if you caught a poacher in the woods he'd cry and beg for forgiveness. Naturally he'd be forgiven. Papa, who was goodness personified, would shout, make a scene, then give him a glass of wine in the kitchen. I saw that happen more than once when I was a child. But then the farmers were poor. Since they've got money, it's as if all their worst instincts have resurfaced. 'The château's crammed full of stuff, from the cellar to the attic,'" she repeated furiously. "Well! And what about his house? They're richer than we are. What exactly do they want? It's envy. They're being eaten up by base feelings. That Sabarie is dangerous. He bragged about how he came to hunt here. So he's kept his rifle. He's capable of anything. If he gets up to mischief, if he kills a German, the entire region will be held responsible and especially the Mayor. It's people like him that cause all our problems. It's my duty to denounce him. I'll make Amaury see reason, and… if I have to, I'll go to German Headquarters myself. He prowls the woods at night, in complete breach of the rules, with a weapon-he's had it!"

She rushed into the bedroom, woke Amaury up and told him what had happened. "So this is what it's come to!" she concluded. "They can come and challenge me, steal from me, insult me in my own home. Well, let them. Do you think the insults of a farmer are going to affect me? But he's a dangerous man. He'll stop at nothing. I'm sure that if I hadn't had the presence of mind to keep quiet, if I'd called for the Germans who were passing by on the road, he would have been capable of attacking them or even…"

She let out a little cry and went deathly pale.

"He had a knife. I saw the light reflected off the blade, I'm sure of it. Can you imagine what might have happened? A German murdered, at night, in our grounds? Go and prove you're not involved, Amaury. It's your duty. You must do something. That man bragged about hunting in the grounds all winter so he must have a gun at home. A gun! Even though the Germans have said over and over again that they won't stand for it. If he's still got one at home, he must definitely be planning something terrible, an attack of some kind. Do you realise what that means? In the next town a German soldier was killed and all the important people in the town (the Mayor first) were taken as hostages until they found out who had done it. And in a little village eleven kilometres from there a young boy of sixteen got drunk and threw a punch at a guard who was trying to arrest him for being out after curfew. The boy was shot, but there's worse! Nothing would have happened if he'd obeyed the rules, but they considered the Mayor responsible for his constituents and he was almost executed as well."

"A pocket knife," Amaury grumbled, but she wasn't listening. "I'm beginning to think," he said, getting dressed, his hands shaking (it was nearly eight o'clock), "I'm beginning to think I shouldn't have agreed to be Mayor."

"You're going to make a formal complaint at the police station, I hope?"

"At the police station? You're mad! We'll have the whole place against us. You know that to these people taking what we've refused to sell them doesn't count as stealing. They see it as a joke. They'd make our life miserable. No, I'll go to German Headquarters right now. I'll ask them to keep the matter quiet, which they will certainly do, for they're discreet and they'll understand the situation. They'll look around at the Sabaries' place and will, no doubt, find a gun."

"Are you sure they'll find something? People like that…"

"People like that think they're very clever, but I know where they hide things. They brag about it in the bars, after they've had a few drinks. It's either in the loft, the cellar or the pigsty. They'll arrest that Benoît, but I'll make the Germans promise not to punish him too severely. He'll get away with a few months in prison. We'll be rid of him for a while and afterwards, I bet you anything, he'll watch his step. The Germans know how to bring people into line. What's wrong with them?" exclaimed the Viscount, who was now half dressed, his shirt-tails flapping round his bare thighs. "What kind of people are they? Why can't they leave well enough alone? What are they being asked to do? To keep quiet, to leave everyone in peace. But no! They have to grumble, quibble, show off. And just how is that going to get them anywhere, I ask you? We were defeated, weren't we? All we have to do is keep a low profile. You'd think they were doing it on purpose just to annoy me. I had succeeded, after a great deal of effort, in getting along with the Germans. There's not a single one of them living in the château, remember. That was a great favour. And what about the whole region? I'm doing everything I can for it… I'm losing sleep over it… The Germans are behaving politely to everyone. They salute the women, they stroke the children. They pay cash. But, no! That's not enough! What else do they want? That they give us back Alsace and Lorraine? That they agree to our becoming a Republic with Leon Blum as President? What do they want? What?"

"Don't upset yourself, Amaury. Look at me, see how calm I am. Just do your duty without hoping for any reward other than from heaven. Believe me, God can see into our hearts."

"I know, I know, but it's hard all the same." The Viscount sighed bitterly.

And without stopping for breakfast (he had such a lump in his throat, he told his wife, that he couldn't have swallowed a crumb), he left and, in the utmost secrecy, requested an audience at German Headquarters.