to the bridle of the
farmer's horse and shook it violently.

"I understand now," said he; "it is easy to see what is going on. Get
down, my man, get down; I want to talk to you."

The farmer was not eager to take up the quarrel. Anxious to escape,
he set spurs to his horse and tried to loosen the peasant's grasp by
striking down his hands with a cane; but Germain dodged the blow, and
seizing hold of his antagonist's leg, he unseated him and flung him
to the earth. The farmer regained his feet, but although he defended
himself vigorously, he was knocked down once more. Germain held him to
the ground. Then he said:

"Poor coward, I could thrash you if I wished. But I don't want to do
you an injury, and, besides, no amount of punishment would help your
conscience--but you shall not stir from this spot until you beg the
girl's pardon, on your knees."

The farmer understood this sort of thing, and wished to take it all as a
joke. He made believe that his offense was not serious, since it lay
in words alone, and protested that he was perfectly willing to ask her
pardon, provided he might kiss the girl afterward. Finally, he proposed
that they go and drink a pint of wine at the nearest tavern, and so part
good friends.

"You are disgusting!" answered Germain, rubbing his victim's head in the
dirt, "and I never wish to see your nasty face again. So blush, if you
are able, and when you come to our village, you had better slink along
Sneak's Alley."*

He picked up the farmer's holly-stick, broke it over his knee to show
the strength of his wrists, and threw away the pieces with disgust Then
giving one hand to his son and the other to little Marie, he walked
away, still trembling with anger.

* This is the road, which, diverging from the principal street at the
entrance of villages, makes a circuit about them.. Persons who are in
dread off receiving some well deserved insult, are supposed to take this
route to escape attention.

XIV -- The Return to the Farm

AT the end of fifteen minutes they had left the heath behind them.
They trotted along the highroad, and the gray whinnied at each familiar
object. Petit-Pierre told his father as much as he could understand of
what had passed.

"When we reached the farm," said he, "that man came to speak to my Marie
in the fold where we had gone to see the pretty sheep. I had climbed
into the manger to play, and that man did not see me. Then he said good
morning to Marie,