m yesterday. Yet I would have been a true
wife to him after all. A ditch of shame--ah, Garoche--Garoche! And you
said you loved me, and that nothing could change you!'

"The Baron said to her: 'Why have you come, Falise? I forbade you.' 'Oh,
my lord,' she answered, 'I feared--for you both! When men go mad because
of women a devil enters into them.' The Baron, taking her by the hand,
said: 'Permit me,' and he led her to the door for her to pass out. She
looked back sadly at Garoche, standing for a minute very still. Then
Garoche said: 'I command you, come with me; you are my wife.' She did
not reply, but shook her head at him. Then he spoke out high and fierce:
'May no child be born to you. May a curse fall on you. May your fields
be barren, and your horses and cattle die. May you never see nor hear
good things. May the waters leave their courses to drown you, and the
hills their bases to bury you, and no hand lay you in decent graves!'

"The woman put her hands to her ears and gave a little cry, and the
Baron pushed her gently on, and closed the door after her. Then he
turned on Garoche. 'Have you said all you wish?' he asked. 'For, if not,
say on, and then go; and go so far you cannot see the sky that covers
Beaugard. We are even now--we can cry quits. But that I have a little
injured you, you should be done for instantly. But hear me: if I ever
see you again, my gallows shall end you straight. Your tongue has been
gross before the mistress of this Manor; I will have it torn out if it
so much as syllables her name to me or to the world again. She is dead
to you. Go, and go for ever!'

"He put a bag of money on the table, but Garoche turned away from it,
and without a word left the room, and the house, and the parish, and
said nothing to any man of the evil that had come to him.

"But what talk was there, and what dreadful things were said at
first-that Garoche had sold his wife to the Baron; that he had been
killed and his wife taken; that the Baron kept him a prisoner in a
cellar under the Manor House! And all the time there was Falise with the
Baron--very quiet and sweet and fine to see, and going to Chapel every
day, and to Mass on Sundays--which no one could understand, any more
than they could see why she should be called the Baroness of Beaugard;
for had they all not seen her married to Garoche? And there were many
people who thought her vile. Yet truly, at heart, she was not so--not
at all. Then it was said t