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"I shall hurry back to Madame Brossard's to see Keredec and here" I extended my hand toward her traps, of which, in a neatly practical fashion, she had made one close pack "let me have your things, and I'll take care of them at the inn for you. They're heavy, and it's a long trudge." "You have your own to carry," she answered, swinging the strap over her shoulder.

They broke through the hedge, and I had to chase them over three fields." "Have done with thy lying excuses," was the rough answer. "Thou shalt have no supper to-night. Maybe an empty stomach will teach thee when my commands fail. Hasten and drive the goats into the pen." There was a scowl on Brossard's burly red face that made Jules's heart bump up in his throat.

Paris having given me this impetus, I dared not tempt her further, nor allow the edge of my eagerness time to blunt; therefore, at the end of a fortnight, I went over into Normandy and deposited that rusty trunk of mine in a corner of the summer pavilion in the courtyard of Madame Brossard's inn, Les Trois Pigeons, in a woodland neighborhood that is there.

Here were fineries from Paris, doubtless on their way to flutter over the gay sands of Trouville, and now wandering but temporarily from the road; for such splendours were never designed to dazzle us of Madame Brossard's. It had a devastating effect upon my companion. He uttered a wild exclamation and sprang sideways into me, almost upsetting us both. "What on earth is the matter?" I asked.

Remembering this old habit of his, it was with joy that I noted his headlong departure. I chuckled within me; it was good to be back at Madame Brossard's. The courtyard was more a garden; bright with rows of flowers in formal little beds and blossoming up from big green tubs, from red jars, and also from two brightly painted wheel-barrows.

"But doesn't she know that it's only part of your siege of Madame Brossard's; that it's a subterfuge in the hope of catching a glimpse of Oliver Saffren?" "No!" she cried, her eyes dancing; "I told her that, but she thinks it's only a subterfuge in the hope of catching more than a glimpse of you!" I joined laughter with her then.

"Perhaps I will," said I. She caught up her riding-skirt, fastening it by a clasp at her side, and we passed out through the archway and went slowly along the road bordering the forest, her horse following obediently at half-rein's length. "When did you hear that I was at Madame Brossard's?" I asked. "Ten minutes after I returned to Quesnay, late yesterday afternoon." "Who told you?" "Louise."

It was Brossard who made the outcry. Jules could only shut his eyes and crouch down trembling, under the shelf. The next instant he was dragged out, and Brossard's merciless strap fell again and again on the poor shrinking little body, that writhed under the cruel blows.

"Are you looking for Madame Brossard's?" I asked in English. The traveller uttered an exclamation and faced about with a jump, birdlike for quickness. He did not reply to my question with the same promptness; however, his deliberation denoted scrutiny, not sloth. He stood peering at me sharply until I repeated it.

He said that there was great excitement at Madame Brossard's, because a strange woman had turned up and claimed an insane young man at the inn for her husband, and that they had a fight of some sort " "Damnation!" I started from my chair. "Did Mrs. Harman hear this story?" "Not last night, I'm certain.