y, he was a very morose man, hard in
his dealings with the poor around him, and exceedingly unsympathizing in
all his domestic relations, as will appear as our story unwinds itself.
Before speaking of the family surroundings of Pierre Moullin we will
glance at the circumstance which forms the basis of the present tale.
Visitors to the Bay of Moulin Huet, as well as to other parts of this
and the surrounding Islands, may have observed a crimson appearance on
the rocks, suggesting very sanguinary ideas, but for which, geologists
doubtless, would be able to account in a very satisfactory manner.
Looking at a portion of the original gully through which the water runs
after passing through the mill wheel, we find that this crimson
appearance is very visible, and as our purpose is not to raise
scientific enquiries, we will take one of the fanciful reasons (of which
there are two or three in existence), for this coloring on by the hand
of Nature, which has so abundantly bedecked Guernsey in general, and
Moulin Huet in particular. Dipping into the Fairy lore of that part of
the island, we find that many believe that some mischievous Fairies who
annoyed the miller much with their nightly pranks were ground to pieces
by the mill wheel becoming unfastened, and that their blood remains
there to this day, as a warning to all others among the "good people"
who might wish to vent their superfluous mischief in a like manner.

So much for the Fairy lore in the Moulin Huet Chronicles; but we must
turn our attention elsewhere to find out whose blood it was that thus
dyed the watercourse of the Moulin Huet Mill.

At the time of which we are speaking, (the opening of the year 165-)
Pierre Moullin and his two children, a son and a daughter, lived in a
house adjoining the mill, in fact, the same roof covered both mill and
house, which were built facing the sea. The stream of water which turned
the wheel was far more powerful than the present, as the old marks
(still partially visible) denote. Pierre Moullin, like many of his
fellow-islanders, was a strong adherent of Cromwell; his son Hirzel was
also,--though perhaps he did not go quite as far as his father in his
hatred of the Royalist party. He had nevertheless acquaintances among
the Royalist soldiers who were quartered in the strong fortress at
Jerbourg. One in particular he had made a great friend of--Charlie
Heyward. Old Pierre often used to say he knew harm would come of this
friendsh