ey must treat me kindly before
they can pray with clear conscience."

"Won't you wait till afternoon? I have something nice for you," said
his wife.

"You are always talking about eating--beginning about dinner already! I
have money in my pocket, and shall get myself something in town."

His wife made no answer, but pressed her prayer-book to her bosom.
There are no more good thoughts in the book than in her heart, but both
are now dumb.

As the bells were ringing for the third time, Landolin went down the
road toward the city. A rider was trotting along after him. He came
nearer. Landolin lifted his hat and said:

"Good-morning, Baron Discher. I owe you an explanation."

"I did not know it."

"I refused you as a juryman, through my attorney. I know you are a just
man."

"Thank you."

"I only refused you because it would be pleasanter for you not to have
to sit on a jury in such hot weather."

The Baron laughed and held the knob of his riding-whip to his mouth;
then he said, "Good-morning," gave his horse the spur, and rode on.

A presentiment of the reception he was exposing himself to came over
Landolin. He wanted to turn back: there was no necessity for his
presence at the festival; but he was ashamed for his family to see him
so irresolute. Peter is, then, in the right in having taken the reins
from his hand. He went toward the town with long strides. Gunshots
echoed, multiplying themselves in the wood through which he was
passing, for the dedication of the flag was just beginning in the
church.

Landolin moderated his step; indeed he sat down on the side of the
road; he had already missed the chief solemnity, and could take his
ease. The coach came up from the railway station. The driver asked
Landolin if he would ride. Landolin was tired, and it was a good
opportunity for returning; but he refused as if something drove him to
the city. He laughed at himself as he recollected that in his childhood
the May-meadow had been a place of execution. What can happen to him?
He is acquitted, free, and in all honor.

Now clear trumpet-notes sounded from the upper town. Landolin hastened
his steps--not to miss the procession.

CHAPTER XLVII.

Up and down the valley, in all the villages of the district, there was
busy life on this Sunday morning. The children on the street announced
to one another that they too were going. Not a few were exceedingly
proud, for soldiers'