a
stone which lay within reach, and, being of skillful aim, killed at the
first shot the fowl nearest to him. The bird fell on its side, flapping
its wings. The others fled wildly hither and thither, and "Bell," picking
up his crutches, limped across to where his victim lay.

Just as he reached the little black body with its crimsoned head he
received a violent blow in his back which made him let go his hold of his
crutches and sent him flying ten paces distant. And Farmer Chiquet,
beside himself with rage, cuffed and kicked the marauder with all the
fury of a plundered peasant as "Bell" lay defenceless before him.

The farm hands came up also and joined their master in cuffing the lame
beggar. Then when they were tired of beating him they carried him off and
shut him up in the woodshed, while they went to fetch the police.

"Bell," half dead, bleeding and perishing with hunger, lay on the floor.
Evening came--then night--then dawn. And still he had not
eaten.

About midday the police arrived. They opened the door of the woodshed
with the utmost precaution, fearing resistance on the beggar's part, for
Farmer Chiquet asserted that he had been attacked by him and had had
great, difficulty in defending himself.

The sergeant cried:

"Come, get up!"

But "Bell" could not move. He did his best to raise himself on his
crutches, but without success. The police, thinking his weakness feigned,
pulled him up by main force and set him between the crutches.

Fear seized him--his native fear of a uniform, the fear of the game
in presence of the sportsman, the fear of a mouse for a cat-and by the
exercise of almost superhuman effort he succeeded in remaining upright.

"Forward!" said the sergeant. He walked. All the inmates of the farm
watched his departure. The women shook their fists at him the men scoffed
at and insulted him. He was taken at last! Good riddance! He went off
between his two guards. He mustered sufficient energy--the energy of
despair--to drag himself along until the evening, too dazed to know
what was happening to him, too frightened to understand.

People whom he met on the road stopped to watch him go by and peasants
muttered:

"It's some thief or other."

Toward evening he reached the country town. He had never been so far
before. He did not realize in the least what he was there for or what was
to become of him. All the terrible and unexpected events of the last two
days, all these unfamiliar fac