ON DIEU, what shall I say? Three years now, he
has pushed me, every one has pushed me, to fight. And you--but I cannot.
I am not capable of it."

The girl's hand lay in his as cold and still as a stone. She was silent
for a moment, and then asked, coldly, "Why not?"

"Why not? Because of the old friendship. Because he pulled me out of the
river long ago. Because I am still his friend. Because now he hates
me too much. Because it would be a black fight. Because shame and evil
would come of it, whoever won. That is what I fear, 'Toinette!"

Her hand slipped suddenly away from his. She stepped back from the gate.

"TIENS! You have fear, Monsieur Leclere! Truly I had not thought of
that. It is strange. For so strong a man it is a little stupid to be
afraid. Good-night. I hear my father calling me. Perhaps some one in the
store who wants to be served. You must tell me again what you are going
to do with the new carriage. Good-night!"

She was laughing again. But it was a different laughter. Prosper, at
the gate, did not think it sounded like the running of a brook over
the stones. No, it was more the noise of the dry branches that knock
together in the wind. He did not hear the sigh that came as she shut
the door of the house, nor see how slowly she walked through the passage
into the store.

II

There seemed to be a great many rainy Saturdays that spring; and in the
early summer the trade in Girard's store was so brisk that it appeared
to need all the force of the establishment to attend to it. The gate of
the front yard had no more strain put upon its hinges. It fell into
a stiff propriety of opening and shutting, at the touch of people who
understood that a gate was made merely to pass through, not to lean
upon.

That summer Vaillantcoeur had a new hat--a black and shiny beaver--and a
new red-silk cravat. They looked fine on Corpus Christi day, when he and
'Toinette walked together as fiancee's.

You would have thought he would have been content with that. Proud,
he certainly was. He stepped like the cure's big rooster with the
topknot--almost as far up in the air as he did along the ground; and he
held his chin high, as if he liked to look at things over his nose.

But he was not satisfied all the way through. He thought more of beating
Prosper than of getting 'Toinette. And he was not quite sure that he had
beaten him yet.

Perhaps the girl still liked Prosper a little. Perhaps she still thought
of h