eet. "She shall not see him. Ah, you know! You
have guessed?" he cried. "She is all safe with me."

"She shall not see him. She shall not know," repeated the dwarf, his
eyes huddling back in his head with anguish.

"Does she not remember you?"

"She does not remember the living, but she would remember the dead. She
shall not know," he said again.

Then, seizing Valmond's hand, he kissed it, and, without a word, trotted
from the room--a ludicrously pathetic figure.

CHAPTER IX

Now and again the moon showed through the cloudy night, and the air was
soft and kind. Parpon left behind him the village street, and, after a
half mile or more of travel, came to a spot where a crimson light showed
beyond a little hill. He halted a moment, as if to think and listen,
then crawled up the bank and looked down. Beside a still smoking
lime-kiln an abandoned fire was burning down into red coals. The little
hut of the lime-burner was beyond in a hollow, and behind that again was
a lean-to, like a small shed or stable. Hither stole the dwarf, first
pausing to listen a moment at the door of the hut.

Leaning into the darkness of the shed, he gave a soft, crooning call.
Low growls of dogs came in quick reply. He stepped inside, and spoke to
them:

"Good dogs! good dogs! good Musket, Coffee, Filthy, Jo-Jo--steady,
steady, idiots!" for the huge brutes were nosing him, throwing
themselves against: him, and whining gratefully. Feeling the wall, he
took down some harness, and, in the dark, put a set on each dog--mere
straps for the shoulders, halters, and traces; called to them sharply
to be quiet, and, keeping hold of their collars, led them out into the
night. He paused to listen again. Presently he drove the dogs across the
road, and attached them to a flat vehicle, without wheels or runners,
used by Garotte for the drawing of lime and stones. It was not so heavy
as many machines of the kind, and at a quick word from the dwarf the
dogs darted away. Unseen, a mysterious figure hurried on after them,
keeping well in the shadow of the trees fringing the side of the road.

The dwarf drove the dogs down a lonely side lane to the village, and
came to the shed where lay the uncomely thing he had called brother.
He felt for a spot where there was a loose board, forced it and another
with his strong fingers, and crawled in. Reappearing with the dead body,
he bore it in his huge arms to the stoneboat: a midget carrying a giant.
He cov