Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1906-04-11

stock! Ny rage flashed out afresh at
the thought, and, at the sight of bis
hooking face, raised my fist. -.
But he read the threat in my eyes,
and was up in moment, snarling, with
his hand on his knife. mot again, Mon
sieur!" he c-jed, in his vile patois.
my head is sore still. Raise your
hand and will rip you up as would
pig!"
"Sit down, fool" l said II am not
going to harm you. Where is, your
wife?'
about her business"
Which should be getting my sup.
per-" retorted sharply.
He rose sullenly, and, fetching a
platter, poured the mess of broth and
vegetables into it. Then he went to
cupboard and brought out loaf of
black bread and measure Of wine and
set them also on the table. t'You see
it," he said laconically.
"And a poor welcomed" l exclaimed.
He famed into sudden passion at
that. Leaning with both his hands on
the table, he thurst his rugged face and
blood~shot eyes close to mine. His
mustache bristled; his beard trem-
bled. clark ye, >sirrah!" he mutt
tered, with sullen emphasis-"be con-
tent! have my suspicious. And If
it were not for my lady's orders I
would put a knife into You. fair or
foul, this very night. You would lie
snug outside, instead Of inside and
do not think any one would be the
worse. But, as it is, be content. Keep
still tongue; and when you turn
your back on Cocheforet tomorrow,
keep it turned"
"Tut! TUT" I said-but I confess I
was a little out of countenance.
Threatened men live long, yon
rascal"
'In Paris!" he answered significant
ly Not here, Monsieur.
He Strengthened himself with that,
nodded once, and went back to the fire,
and I shrugged my shoulders and be-
gan to eat, affecting to forget his pres
ence. The logs on the hearth burned
sullenly, and gave no light. The poor
oil-lamp, casting weird shadows from
wall to wall, served only to discover
the darkness. The room, with it's
low roof and earthen floor and foul
clothes flung here and there, reeked of
stale meals and garlic and vile cook
ing. thought of the par1or at Coche
foret, and the dainty table, and the
stiffness, and the scented pot-herbs;
and, though I was too old a soldier to
eat the worse because my spoon lacked
washing, I felt the change and laid
it savagely at >mademoiselle's door.
The landlord, watching me STEALTH
ly from his place by the hearth, read
my thoughts and chuckled aloud.
palace fare. palace manners!" he
muttered scornfully. *Set beggar on
horseback and he will ride-hack to
the inn!"
Keep a civil tongue, will you:".
answered, scowling at him.
Have you finished?" he retorted.
rose, without deigning to reply,
and going to the fire drew off my
boots, which were wet through. He,
ON the instant, swept of wine and loaf
to the cupboard, and then, coming back
for the platter I had used, took it,
opened the back door, and went out,
leaving the door ajar. The draught
which came in beat the fame of the
lamp this way and that, and gave the
dingy, gloomy room an air still more
miserable. I rose angrily from the
fire and went to the door, intending
to close it with a bang.
But when I reached it I saw some
thing between door and jamb which
stayed my hand. The door led to q
shed in which the housewife washed
pots and the like. felt some sur
prise, therefore, when I found a. light
there at this time of night; still more
surprise when I saw what she was do
ing.
She was seated on the mud floor,
with rushlight before her, and on
either side Of her high-piled heap of
refuse and rubbish. From one OF these,
at the moment I caught sight of her,
she was sorting things-horrible, filthy
sweepings of road or foor-to the 9TH
er; shaking and Sitting each article
as she passed it across, and then TAX
ing up another and repeating the &C
ton with it, and so on: all infinitely,
warily, with an air Of so much pa
thence and persistence that stood
wondering Some things-rags-she
held up between her eyes and the light,
some she passed through her fingers,
some she fairly tore in pieces. And all
the time her husband stood watching
her greedily, my platter still in his
hand, as if her strange occupation
fascinated him.
stood looking, also, for half a min
ute, perhaps; then the mans eye,
raised for single second to the door
way, met mine. He started, muttered
something to his wife, and, quick as
thought, kicked the light out, leaving
the shed in darkness. Cursing him for
an ill-conditioned fellow, I walked back
to the fire laughing. In q twinkling
he followed me, his face dark with
rage
"Ventre saint gris!'- he exclaimed.
thrusting it close to mine. "Is not
a mans house his own"
1T is, for me-" I answered coolly,
struggling my shoulders. "And his
wife: if she likes to pick dirty rags
at this hour, that is your affair."
Pig of spy!" he cried, foaming
with rage.
I was angry euo,,ch IT hot<o,,n ,,,,<