knees
and our bacon, he told me the tale as he knew it. He was a great
scholar--there is none greater. He had found papers in the wall of the
house, and from the Gover'ment chest he got more. Then there were the
tales handed down, and the records of the Church--for she knows the true
story of every man that has come to New France from first to last. So,
because I have a taste for tales, and gave him some, he told me of the
Baron of Beaugard, and that time he took the right of the seigneur, and
the end of it all.

"Of course it was a hundred and fifty years ago, when Bigot was
Intendant-ah, what a rascal was that Bigot, robber and deceiver! He
never stood by a friend, and never fought fair a foe--so the Abbe said.
Well, Beaugard was no longer young. He had built the Manor House, he had
put up his gallows, he had his vassals, he had been made a lord. He had
quarrelled with Bigot, and had conquered, but at great cost; for Bigot
had such power, and the Governor had trouble enough to care for himself
against Bigot, though he was Beaugard's friend.

"Well, there was a good lump of a fellow who had been a soldier, and he
picked out a girl in the Seigneury of Beaugard to make his wife. It
is said the girl herself was not set for the man, for she was of finer
stuff than the peasants about her, and showed it. But her father and
mother had a dozen other children, and what was this girl, this Falise,
to do? She said yes to the man, the time was fixed for the marriage, and
it came along.

"So. At the very hour of the wedding Beaugard came by, for, the church
was in mending, and he had given leave it should be in his own chapel.
Well, he rode by just as the bride was coming out with the man--Garoche.
When Beaugard saw Falise, he gave a whistle, then spoke in his throat,
reined up his horse, and got down. He fastened his eyes on the girl's. A
strange look passed between them--he had never seen her before, but she
had seen him often, and when he was gone had helped the housekeeper with
his rooms. She had carried away with her a stray glove of his. Of course
it sounds droll, and they said of her when all came out that it was
wicked; but evil is according to a man's own heart, and the girl had
hid this glove as she hid whatever was in her soul--hid it even from the
priest.

"Well, the Baron looked and she looked, and he took off his hat, stepped
forward, and kissed her on the cheek. She turned pale as a ghost, and
her eyes took the