When the punishment was over, Bergenheim remounted his horse as tranquilly as he had dismounted it, and continued his way toward the chateau.
The young man, in the midst of the thicket where he was concealed, had lost no detail of this rural scene.

He could not help having a feeling of admiration for this energetic representative of the feudal ages who, with no fear of any court of justice or other bourgeois inventions, had thus exerted over his own domains the summary justice in force in Eastern countries.
"France has thrashed Gaul," said he, smiling to himself; "if all our men had this Bergenheim's iron fist many things determined upon to-day might be called in question.

If I ever have the slightest difficulty with this Milo de Crotona, he may be sure I shall not choose pugilism as my mode of discussion." The storm now burst forth in all its fury.

A dark curtain covered the whole valley, and the rain fell in torrents.

The Baron put spurs to his horse, crossed the bridge and, entering the sycamore avenue, was soon out of sight.