I leave Jacin--eh?--ah!--oh!--ahem! How--'ow d'ye do,
Jacintha?" And his roar ended in a whine, as when a dog runs barking
out, and receives in full career a cut from his master's whip, his
generous rage turns to whimper with ludicrous abruptness. "I was just
talking of you, Jacintha," quavered Dard in conclusion.

"I heard you, Dard," replied Jacintha slowly, softly, grimly.

Dard withered.

It was a lusty young woman, with a comely peasant face somewhat
freckled, and a pair of large black eyes surmounted by coal-black brows.
She stood in a bold attitude, her massive but well-formed arms folded so
that the pressure of each against the other made them seem gigantic, and
her cheek red with anger, and her eyes glistening like basilisks upon
citizen Dard. She looked so grand, with her lowering black brows, that
even Riviere felt a little uneasy. As for Jacintha, she was evidently
brooding with more ire than she chose to utter before a stranger. She
just slowly unclasped her arms, and, keeping her eye fixed on Dard,
pointed with a domineering gesture towards Beaurepaire. Then the doughty
Dard seemed no longer master of his limbs: he rose slowly, with his eyes
fastened to hers, and was moving off like an ill-oiled automaton in the
direction indicated; but at that a suppressed snigger began to shake
Riviere's whole body till it bobbed up and down on the seat. Dard turned
to him for sympathy.

"There, citizen," he cried, "do you see that imperious gesture? That
means you promised to dig in the aristocrat's garden this afternoon,
so march! Here, then, is one that has gained nothing by kings being put
down, for I am ruled with a mopstick of iron. Thank your stars, citizen,
that you are not in may place."

"Dard," retorted Jacintha, "if you don't like your place, I'd quit it.
There are two or three young men down in the village will be glad to
take it."

"I won't give them the chance, the vile egotists!" cried Dard. And he
returned to the chateau and little odd jobs.

Jacintha hung behind, lowered her eyes, put on a very deferential
manner, and thanked Edouard for the kind sentiments he had uttered; but
at the same time she took the liberty to warn him against believing the
extravagant stories Dard had been telling about her mistress's poverty.
She said the simple fact was that the baron had contracted debts, and
the baroness, being the soul of honor, was living in great economy to
pay them off. Then, as to Dard getting