ke ice. In the kitchen was a poor
little bit of fire. I made it up; and then I tried to get courage to
go upstairs.... Well, somehow I was in the bedroom. I had taken a
candle with me. I can't tell you how she looked. It would make you
wish you could kill _him_. She looked at me with her poor glazed
eyes. Her lips were black with fever. She cried, in a voice like a
thread, for water, water!"

"God in heaven! and you love this brute yet?"

She hid her face for a moment.

"Hush, I've not finished! I did my best for her, poor Blaisette. For
a minute she knew me and she tried to thank me; and very soon she
fell asleep."

"And he came back at midnight?"

"No, not till the middle of Christmas Day; and then he was half
drunk. Since then he has hardly been near the house; but he has not
left Lihou. He has been about the stables, and come into the kitchen
to get his meals once or twice; and he is drinking, drinking all the
time. I can see he is afraid of the small-pox, and afraid of death.
And yet, I believe, I am sure, he loves me yet; only I will not
speak to him nor look at him, because of _her_, lying upstairs all
unconscious."

Perrin stared at her, aghast. Was it possible a woman could love,
actually love, the devil! Bah, it seemed so!

"Look here," he cried, almost in a rude voice, "he loves you so much
that he lets you run the risk of getting the small-pox! Very well!
I'm decided what to do. I'll go back to tell my mother I am coming
here to look after you twice a day, perhaps more, and I'll give
_him_ a piece of my mind. My mother will go to Les Casquets. I'll
stop the mouths of the two parishes, so will my mother and your
parents, or I'll know why. Now, go back, and I'll be off for the
doctor and for food."

"Wait, just a minute, Perrin! There is something more I must say, to
cast it off my mind. It is all my fault that Blaisette has the
small-pox. It was me that went to the witch to Saint Pierre Port to
cast a spell on my rival the day after the _Grand' Querrue_. I
didn't tell no names, but that's why she's bad, and oh, Perrin, it's
all my fault."

"Yes, I suppose it's that, in a way. But it's my belief there's
another reason for her sickness. You remember she came the wrong way
to church on her wedding day? Ah, we all know what _that_
means--trouble--as sure as her name is Blaisette. But I must be
off!"

In a few hours Perrin returned with a store of food and the
unwilling doctor, who was obliged to g