The Dolores star., 1924-10-03
COOK ONE
Chapter /

MYRTLE stood upon the crazy yeron-
da, her eyes shaded by her hand. gaz-
Ing down the straight, narrow foot
path. sundering line across the
freshly plUwed field, which led To tho
village in the hollow below. The mol
dering white stone cottuge from which
She had issued was set in II cleft nf
the plne-cOvered hills: il seemed to
struggle against It's inh0rn gnliness
md to succeed only because of the
S@aGty of its settIng-in the fore
ground the brown earth. with Its neat
ly trained vines and its Ouurter Of nm
acre of fragrant violets; the orchard
pink and Willie with masses of cherry
blossom; beyond, level stretch of
freshly turned brown earth. soon to be
come delicate carpet OF tender green.
and. by the time the vines should
sprout, sea of deep gold. 1t was the
typical homestead Of the small French
peasant proprietor.
Myrtile's hand dropped 10 her side,
The three figures were plainly visible
now. She remained quiescent. watch.
Ing them with n mute tragedy in her
Ah' Z N'iA'ilr w 'IIt Oh the
Inner significance Of this approaching
procession. must have seemed a little
puzZllng. For there was nothing
tragic about Jean Sargot-midtle.
aged, II typical peasant of the district,
with coarsened face and weather
beaten skin-or about the companion
who hun. on his arm-a plump, dark
woman, with black hair and eyes. yo-
cifer0us and fluent of gesture, with a
higii-ptched voice and apparently
much to say. Tie third person, who
walked in the rear, seemed even less
likely to incite apprehension. lie was
more corpulent than his neighbor. Jean
Sargot, and his whole appearance was
one of discomfort. Yet the girls eyes.
as they rested upon him, were filled
with terror.
They were near enough now for
speech. and her stepfather, waving his
hand, called ont to her:
1T Is the Widow Dumay. little one.
and our friend and neighbor, Pierre
LeschampS, who come to drink II glass
of wine with us. Hurry with the table
and some chairs, and bring one-two
bottles of last years vintage"
They sank into the chairs which
MYRTLE had already placed unon the
veranda, Pierre Leschanps laying his
hat upon II handkerchief In a safe cor
ner. He kept the little cafe in the vii.
age. and the strip of land which went
with ii he let to others. His pale
cheeks and fiabby limbs told their own
story. Jean Sargot looked about him
with the pride of the proprietor.
Not SO bad, this little dwelling,
Chi" he exclaimed. -Four rooms. all
well-furnished, a bed such as one sell
dom sees. and wardrobe made by NV
own grandfather, Jacques Sargot. the
carpenter. II pleases thee. Marie?"
The widow looked around her with
little sniff
1T might be worse" she conceded,
'but there are the children"
Three only" Sargot replied, "and
In year or so they will all be in the
fields. Think what that may mean.
We can sell the timber from the strip
behind and plant more vines. Children
are not so bad when they are strong"
"The little ones are well enough"
Madam Dumay admitted, but thy eld-
est-Myrtile-she has not the air of
health"
They all looked mp at the girl, who
was approaching them at this moment
with wine and glasses. She was of
medium height and slim. Her com
plexion was crcamily pale; even the
skin about her neck and arms had lit.
tie of the peasants brown. Her neat
~ braided hair was Of the darkest