n round, as the name of his father was, and his
father before him. He had no other property than the sterile farm
half-way up the mountain, and almost inaccessible--in winter entirely
inaccessible--where he raised not half a support on the slips of earth
among the ledges; his few starved sheep and goats did what they could
for him, and his rifle did the rest. The first Raynier of them all
was possibly an escaped convict, who fortified his retreat by these
mountain-sides. He had no money; the women spun and wove all that was
worn. He had no education; no Raynier had ever had; no Raynier had
ever had occasion to sign his mark, let alone his name. There had been
one son in each generation; neither church nor school ever saw him;
his existence was scarcely known till he was ready to marry, and then
he came down, and by no one knows what other magic than a savage
force of nature took the prettiest girl of the valley to his
eyrie--sometimes his wife, sometimes not. When she died, and she
always died, the Raynier of the day replaced her. He did not always
wait for her to die before replacing her. But sudden deaths were no
uncommon thing in that house; there was a burial-ground scooped in the
hill-side. And who was there to interfere? Perhaps no one knew there
had been a death till the year was out. What if a woman went mad? That
happened anywhere. People below might prate of murder, or suicide, or
slow poison; there was nobody to whom it was vital enough to open the
question seriously; and then they feared the Raynier with an uncanny
fear, as people fear a catamount in the woods, or the goblin of old
wives' tales after dark. There were horrible stories of bouts and
brawls, of tortures, gags, whips, and--oh, no matter! Nor was all the
crime on the shoulders of the Raynier men. It was understood that more
than one woman of the name found life too intolerable to endure its
conditions when the fumes of a charcoal fire after a drunken feast,
or a quick thrust over the edge of a precipice, or a bit of weed in
the broth, made life easier, till remorse brought madness. And
finally, if any Raynier died what may be called a natural death, it
was either from starvation or from delirium tremens. You see they were
a precious lot."

"A precious lot!" I said, trembling. "Ah, what is heaven made of? Poor
wretches, they could not help it. From generation to generation the
children of such people must needs be criminal."

"I don't know. If re