hey two are as if born of one
mother; and what comes of this will be mad play--mad play."

"Av coorse his wife may not get to know of it, and--"

"Not get to know it! 'Tsh, you are a child--"

"Faith, I'll say what I think, and that in y'r face! Maybe he'll tire of
the handsome rip--for handsome she is, like a yellow lily growin' out
o' mud--and go back to his lawful wife, that believes he's at the mines,
when he's drinkin' and colloguin' wid a fly-away."

Pierre slowly wheeled till he had the Irishman straight in his eye.
Then he said in a low, cutting tone: "I suppose your heart aches for the
beautiful lady, eh?" Here he screwed his slight forefinger into Tom's
breast; then he added sharply: "'Nom de Dieu,' but you make me angry!
You talk too much. Such men get into trouble. And keep down the riot of
that heart of yours, Tom Liffey, or you'll walk on the edge of knives
one day. And now take an inch of whisky and ease the anxious soul.
'Voila!'" After a moment he added: "Women work these things out for
themselves." Then the two left the hut, and amiably strolled together to
the centre of the village, where they parted. It was as Pierre had
said: the woman would work the thing out for herself. Later that evening
Heldon's wife stood cloaked and veiled in the shadows of the pines,
facing the house with The Crimson Flag. Her eyes shifted ever from the
door to the flag, which was stirred by the light breeze. Once or twice
she shivered as with cold, but she instantly stilled again, and watched.
It was midnight. Here and there beyond in the village a light showed,
and straggling voices floated faintly towards her. For a long time no
sound came from the house. But at last she heard a laugh. At that she
drew something from her pocket, and held it firmly in her hand. Once she
turned and looked at another house far up on the hill, where lights were
burning. It was Heldon's house--her home. A sharp sound as of anguish
and anger escaped her; then she fastened her eyes on the door in front
of her.

At that moment Tom Liffey was standing with his hands on his hips
looking at Heldon's home on the hill; and he said some rumbling words,
then strode on down the road, and suddenly paused near the wife. He did
not see her. He faced the door at which she was looking, and shook his
fist at it.

"A murrain on y'r sowl!" said he, "as there's plague in y'r body, and
hell in the slide of y'r feet, like the trail of the red spider. And out