to
treat me like that just for a bit of fun. At first, when she was
just well of the small-pox, she was very kind to me. But when I
spoke of our wedding day that had been put off and asked her if she
wouldn't tell me it would be soon again, she turned away and didn't
say another word for a long time."

"And you left her alone, I hope?"

"Indeed, but, no! I begged and prayed of her to speak to me, till
she turned round. She looked white and tired. She was crying, but
she was vexed, too. She told me, quite sharp, to leave her alone.
She said she wasn't going to marry nobody, and she must have been
mad to promise to be my wife before. And then she said she was glad
she'd had the small-pox, because it had put off the wedding."

"Perrin, my son, you are far too good for her, and far too simple!
If you'd have left her then and there, it's my belief she'd have
come looking after me the very next day, just to see what you'd told
me. And if you'd have seemed you didn't care _she'd_ have cared a
good bit more than she does."

The fisherman shook his head.

"No, it isn't like what you think. It's like this--Ellenor only
cares for one man, and that's the master of Orvilliere."

Mrs. Corbet shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, well, she must be _ensorchelai_ herself to love him that's
such a devil and has so much to do with the Prince of devils. Bah,
it was only yesterday I was told of some of Le Mierre's doings! It
was Judie Roussel, and _she_ heard it from one of the maids at
Orvilliere. Just you listen to me, Perrin Corbet, and see what you
think of it!--Le Mierre, he wanted a bit of fun, him, and you may
depend it wasn't nothing good, so he fetched some of his fine
friends to go to the Vale. But they wasn't going to walk, them, no
such thing! They makes up their minds they'll use the horse of Le
Mierre's neighbour, Langlois. They find a good strong white one in a
meadow. What do they do but all jump on his back and be off! Wait a
bit! He begins to gallop and to gallop, over hedges and brambles;
they couldn't stop him, and and when he gets nearly to the Vale, he
throws them off his back in a fine muddy place, and then he's out of
sight in a minute. And yet, would you believe it, Langlois swore the
white horse had been in the meadow all the time! Of course it was
the _devil_ that was the gallopping white horse! And he must be on
pretty good terms with Le Mierre to play off such a joke with him,
eh, Perrin!"

"I can't say,