"Well, likely he may, if thou prove not too heavy a load," retorted thefilial Jeanne. "I tell thee the kid's heart is full of anger againstWillan Blaycke. She is but doing my bidding. I charged her to see to itthat he was pleased, that he should go away our friend."

"And so he will go," said in reply Victor, dryly; "but not for thy bidding ormine. The man is that far pleased already that he shifteth as if thevery chair were scorching beneath him. A most dutiful niece thou hast,Mistress Jeanne!"

When supper was over Willan Blaycke walked hastily out of the home. Hewanted to be alone. The clouds had broken away, and the full moon shoneout gloriously. The great pear-tree looked like a tree wrapped in cloud,its blossoms were so thick and black. Willan paced back and forthbeneath it, where he had lain sleeping before supper. He looked towardthe window from whence he had heard the singing voice. "It must havebeen she," he said. "How shall I bring it to pass to look at her again? forthat I will and must." He went to the window and looked in. All wasdark. As he turned away the door at the farther end opened, and a ray oflight flashing in from the hall beyond showed Victorine bearing inside herhand the jug of cider. She had made this excuse to go to the storeroomagain, having observed that Willan had left the home.

"He might seek me again there," thought she.

Willan heard the sound, turned back, and bounding to the windowexclaimed, "Was it thou who sang?"