ll
in the marshy soil. And all that while no one had caught so much as
a glimpse of her sister, Lucille. Also how they lived was a marvel.
The outlandish lady bought neither fish, nor butcher's meat, nor
bread. To be sure, the Parson sent down a pint of milk every morning
from his dairy; the can was left at the garden-gate and fetched at
noon, when it was always found neatly scrubbed, with the price of the
milk inside. Besides, there was a plenty of vegetables in the
garden.

But this was not enough to avert the whisper of witchcraft. And one
day, when Parson Morth had ridden off to the wrestling matches at
Exeter, the blow fell.

Farmer Anthony of Carne--great-grandfather of the present farmer--had
been losing sheep. Now, not a man in the neighbourhood would own to
having stolen them; so what so easy to suspect as witchcraft? Who so
fatally open to suspicion as the two outlandish sisters? Men, wives,
and children formed a procession.

The month was July; and Mademoiselle Henriette was out in the garden,
a bunch of monkey-flowers in her hand, when they arrived. She turned
all white, and began to tremble like a leaf. But when the spokesman
stated the charge, there was another tale.

"It was an infamy. Steal! She would have them know that she and her
sister were of good West Indian family--_tres bien elevees._"
Then followed a torrent of epithets. They were _laches-poltrons_.
Why were they not fighting Bonaparte, instead of sending their wives
up to the cliffs, dressed in red cloaks, to scare him away, while
they bullied weak women?

They pushed past her. The cottage held two rooms on the ground
floor. In the kitchen, which they searched first, they found only
some garden-stuff and a few snails salted in a pan. There was a door
leading to the inner room, and the foremost had his hand on it, when
Mademoiselle Henriette rushed before him, and flung herself at his
feet. The yellow monkey-blossoms were scattered and trampled on the
floor.

"_Ah--non, non, messieurs! Je vous prie--Elle est si--si horrible!_"

They flung her down, and pushed on.

The invalid sister lay in an arm-chair with her back to the doorway,
a bunch of monkey-flowers beside her. As they burst in, she started,
laid both hands on the arms of her chair, and turned her face slowly
upon them.

She was a leper!

They gave one look at that featureless face, with the white scales
shining upon it, and ran back with their arms lift