of the sound grain, and to spread in the sun all that was moist, so as to save as much as possible; then, after estimating that his losses amounted to about three fifths, he attended to filling his orders.  But his previous manipulations of the market had raised the price of cereals, and he lost on the three fifths he was obliged to buy to fill his orders; so that his losses amounted really to more than half.  The Spaniard, who had no enemies, at once attributed this revenge to Gilet.  He was convinced that Maxence and some others were the authors of all the nocturnal mischief, and had in all probability carried his cart up the embankment of the tower, and now intended to amuse themselves by ruining him.  It was a matter to him of over three thousand francs,—­very nearly the whole capital he had scraped together since the peace.  Driven by the desire for vengeance, the man now displayed the cunning and stealthy persistence of a detective to whom a large reward is offered.  Hiding at night in different parts of Issoudun, he soon acquired proof of the proceedings of the Knights of Idleness; he saw them all, counted them, watched their rendezvous, and knew of their suppers at Mere Cognette’s; after that he lay in wait to witness one of their deeds, and thus became well informed as to their nocturnal habits.

In spite of Max’s journeys and pre-occupations, he had no intention of neglecting his nightly employments,—­first, because he did not wish his comrades to suspect the secret of his operations with Pere Rouget’s property; and secondly, to keep the Knights well in hand.  They were therefore convened for the preparation of a prank which might deserve to be talked of for years to come.  Poisoned meat was to be thrown on a given night to every watch-dog in the town and in the environs.  Fario overheard them congratulating each other, as they came out from a supper at the Cognettes’, on the probable success of the performance, and laughing over the general mourning that would follow this novel massacre of the innocents,—­revelling, moreover, in the apprehensions it would excite as to the sinister object of depriving all the households of their guardian watch-dogs.

“It will make people forget Fario’s cart,” said Goddet.

Fario did not need that speech to confirm his suspicions; besides, his mind was already made up.

After three weeks’ stay in Issoudun, Agathe was convinced, and so was Madame Hochon, of the truth of the old miser’s observation, that it would take years to destroy the influence which Max and the Rabouilleuse had acquired over her brother.  She had made no progress in Jean-Jacques’s confidence, and she was never left alone with him.  On the other hand, Mademoiselle Brazier triumphed openly over the heirs by taking Agathe to drive in the caleche, sitting beside her on the back seat, while Monsieur Rouget and his nephew occupied the front.  Mother and son impatiently awaited an answer to the confidential letter they had written to Desroches.  The day before the night on which the dogs were to be poisoned, Joseph, who was nearly bored to death in Issoudun, received two letters:  the first from the great painter Schinner,—­whose age allowed him a closer intimacy than Joseph could have with Gros, their master,—­and the second from Desroches.