must you interfere with him," said the wise man. "If you should do so he
retains the right that every man has of defending himself, and will
doubtless exercise it."

At which, when he heard it, George smiled crookedly through his swollen
lips and half-closed eyes, and Martel found himself out in the cold.

He reconnoitred at a safe distance several times during the day, but each
time found Hamon smoking his pipe in the doorway, with a show of enjoyment
which his cut lips did not in reality permit.

He stole down in the dark and quietly tried the bolted door, but got only a
sarcastic grunt for his pains.

He tried to get a lodging elsewhere, but no one would receive him.

He begged for food. No one would give him a crust, and everyone he asked
kept a watchful eye on him until he was clear of the premises.

He pulled some green corn, and husked it between his hands, and tried to
satisfy his complaining stomach with that and half-ripe blackberries.

He crept up to a farmsteading after dark, intent on eggs, a chicken, a
pigeon,--anything that might stay the clamour inside. The watch-dogs raised
such a riot that he crept away again in haste.

The hay had been cut in the churchyard. That was No Man's Land, and none
had the right to hunt him out of it. So he made up a bed alongside a great
square tomb, and slept there that night, and scared the children as they
went past to school next morning.

One of the cows at Le Port gave no milk that day, and Dame Vaudin pondered
the matter weightily, and discussed it volubly with her neighbours, but did
not try their remedies.

During the day he went over to Little Sercq in hopes of snaring a rabbit.
But the rabbits understood him and were shy. When he found himself near the
Cromlech it suggested shelter, and creeping in to curl himself up for a
sleep, he came unexpectedly on a baby rabbit paralysed with fear at the
sight of him. It was dead before it understood what was happening. He tore
it in pieces with his fingers and ate it raw. They found its skin and bones
there later on.

Under the stimulus of food his brain worked again. There was no room for
him in Sercq, that was evident. He was alien, and the clan spirit was too
strong for him.

He crept back across the Coupee in the dark, and passed a man there who
bade him good-night, not knowing till afterwards who he was.

Next morning, when Philip Carre came in from his fishing and climbed the
zigzag above Havre Gosselin,