"Very well, my Israelites," added Shangois, bending over the contract.
An hour later, Nicolas Lavilette was in the big storeroom of the farmhouse, which was reached by a covered passage from the hall between the kitchen and the dining-room.

In his off-hand way he was getting out some flour, dried fruit and preserves for the cook, who stood near as he loaded up her arms.

He laughingly thrust a string of green peppers under her chin, and added a couple of sprigs of summer-savoury, then suddenly turned round, with a start, for a peculiar low whistle came to him through the half-open window.

It was followed by heavy stertorous breathing.
He turned back again to the cook, gaily took her by the shoulders, and pushed her to the door.

Closing it behind her, he shot the bolt and ran back to the window.