The Winslow mail., 1897-07-10
tic blow with her stool at something Ee

is it?' He snatched his stool, too, and
! at that moment rat darted out of the
straw, ran nimbly between his legs and
plunged into a hole by the door, He
! flung the wooden stool after it, but, of
course, in vain. sit was ratr' he
said as if before he had doubted it.
"Thank Godr' she muttered. She was
shaking all over.
He stared at her in stupid wonder.
What did she mean? What had come to
her? "Have you had sunstroke, my
| girl?'' he said suspiciously.
| Her nut brown face was shade less
brown than usual, but she met his eyes
boldly and said, NO." adding an ex-
planation which for the moment salts
fed him. But he did not sit down again.
When she went out, he went also. And
! though, as she retired slowly to the rye
fields and work, she repeatedly looked
back at him, it was always to find his
eyes upon her. When this had happened
half a dozen times, thought struck
him. "How now?' he muttered. "The
rat ran out of the straw"
Nevertheless he still stood gazing aft
er her, with a cunning look upon his
features, until she disappeared over the
edge CT the rift, and then he orept back
to the door of the barn and stole in out
of the sunlight into the cool darkness of
the raftered building, across which
dozen rays of light were shooting, laden
with dancing notes Inside he stood
stock still until he had regained the use
of his eyes, and then he began to peer
round him. In moment he found what
he sought. Half upon and half hidden
by the straw lay a young man in the
deep sleep of utter exhaustion. His face
which bore traces of more than common
beauty, was now white and pinched.
His hair hung dank about his forehead.
His clothes were in rags, and his feet,
bound up in pieces torn at random from
his blouse, were raw and bleeding. For
short while Michel Teller bent over
him, remarking these things with glis-
tening eyes. Then the peasant stole out
again. 'It is crownsl'' he muttered,
blinking in the sunlight. "Ha, hal Five
crownsl"
He looked round cautiously, but could
see no sign of his wife, and after hesi-
tating and pondering minute or two
he took the path for Carbaix, his ma
tive astuteness leading him to saunter
slowly along in his ordinary fashion.
After that the moorland about the cot
tage lay seemingly deserted. Thrice, at
intervals, the girl dragged home her
load of straw, but each time she seemed
to linger in the barn no longer than was
necessary. Michel's absence, though it
was unlocked for, raised no suspicion in
her breast, for he would frequently go
down to the village to spend the after
noon. The sun sank lower, and the shad
ow of the great monolith, which, stand
about mile away, rose gaunt and black
against a roseate sky, grew longer and
longer, and then, as twilight fell, the
two coming homo met a few PAGES from
the cottage. He asked some questions
about the work she had been doing, and
she answered briefly. Then, silent and
uncommunicative, they went in togeth-
er. The girl set the bread and cider OH
the table, and, going TO the great black
pot which had been simmering all day
upon the fire, poured some broth into
two pitchers 1t did not escape Michels
frugal eye that there was still a little
broth left in thc bottom of the pot, and
this induced new feeling in him
anger. When his wife hailed him by a
sign to the meal. he went instead to the
door and fastened it, Thence he went
to the corner and picked up the wood
chopper, and, armed with this, came
back to his seat.
The girl watched his movements, first
with surprise and then with secret ter
ror. The twilight was come, and the
cottage was almost dark, and she was
alone with him, or, if not alone, yet
with no one near who could help her.
Yet she met his grin of triumph brave
ly. "What is this?" she said "Why do
you want that?"
''For the rat" he answered grimly,
his eyes ON hers.
"Why not use your stool?' she strove
to murmur, her heart sinking.
''Not for this rat" he answered. "It
might not do, my girl. Oh, know all
about it" he continued ST have been
down to the village and seen the mayor,
and he is coming up to fetch him. "
He nodded toward the partition, and
she knew that her secret was known.
"It is Pierre" she said, trembling
violently and turning first crimson and
then white.
81 know it, Jeanne. 1t was excellent
of you! Excellent 1t is long since you
have done such days work -
"You will not give him up?"
My faith, shallP' he answered, af-
fecting and perhaps really feeling Won
der at her simplicity. HE is crowns,
girl! You do not understand. He is
worth crowns and the risk nothing at
ALL"
If he had been angry or shown any
thing of the fury of the suspicious hus-
band, if he had been about to do this
out of jealousy or revenge, she would
have quailed before him, though she
had done him no wrong save the wrong
of mercy and pity. But his spirit was
too mean for the great passions. He felt
only the sordid cnes, which to woman
are the most hateful. And instead of
quailing she looked at him with fash
ing eyes. "I shall warn him." she said.
SIT will not help him." he answered,
sitting still and feeling the edge of the
hatchet with his fingers.
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