and he kissed her."

"You allowed him to kiss you, Marie?" said Germain, trembling with
anger.

"I thought it was a civility, a custom of the place to new-comers, just
as at your farm the grandmother kisses the young girls who enter her
service to show that she adopts them and will be a mother to them."

"And next," went on little Pierre, who was proud to have an adventure to
tell of, "_that man_ told you something wicked, which you have told me
never to repeat and not even remember; so I forgot it right away. Still,
if father wishes, I will tell him what it was--"

"No, Pierre, I don't wish to hear, and I don't wish you ever to think of
it again."

"Then I will forget it all over again," replied the child. "Next, _that
man_ seemed to be growing angry because Marie told him that she was
going away. He told her he would give her whatever she wanted,--a
hundred francs! And my Marie grew angry too. Then he came toward her as
if he wished to hurt her. I was afraid, and I ran to Marie and cried.
Then _that man_ said: 'What 's that? Where did that child come from? Put
it out,' and he raised his cane to beat me. But my Marie prevented him,
and she spoke to him this way: 'We will talk later, sir; now I must take
this child back to Fourche, and then I shall return.' And as soon as
he had left the fold, my Marie spoke to me this way: 'We must run, my
Pierre; we must get away as quickly as we can, for this is a wicked
man and he is trying to do us harm.' Then when we had gone back of the
farm-houses, we crossed a little meadow, and we went to Fourche to find
you. But you were not there, and they would n't let us wait. And then
_that man_, riding his black horse, came behind us, and we ran on as
fast as we could and hid in the woods. And then he followed us, and
when we heard him coming, we hid again. And then, when he had passed,
we began to run toward home, and then you came and found us, and that is
how it all happened. I have n't forgotten anything, have I, my Marie?"

"No, my Pierre, that is the whole truth. Now, Germain, you must be my
witness, and tell everybody in the village that if I did not stay there
it was not from want of courage and industry."

"And, Marie, I want to ask of you whether a man of twenty-eight is too
old when there is a woman to be defended and an insult to be revenged.
I should like to know whether Bastien or any other pretty boy, ten years
better off than I, would not have been knocked to piece