old man, a suspicion of what she meant darting across him; and the
woman, nothing loth, answered as before.

'Ah, it was not all for buying or selling that your handsome son has
been coming to town every week these many months past. And not by the
shortest way, either! No, it was over the river he rode, and across the
hill and past the cottage of Miguel the vine-keeper, whose daughter,
they say, is the prettiest girl in the whole country side, though she is
too white for my taste,' and then the landlady paused again, and glanced
up at the farmer, to see how he was taking it. She did not learn much.
He was looking straight before him, his teeth set. But as she ceased to
talk, he said quietly, 'Go on.'

'There is not much more to tell,' replied the landlady, for she suddenly
remembered that she must prepare supper for the hungry men who always
stopped at the inn on market days, before starting for home, 'but one
fine morning they both went to the little church on top of the hill,
and were married. My cousin is servant to the priest, and she found out
about it and told me. But good-day to you, sir; here is your horse, and
I must hurry off to the kitchen.'

It was lucky that the horse was sure-footed and knew the road, for his
bridle hung loose on his neck, and his master took no heed of the way
he was going. When the farm-house was reached, the man led the animal to
the stable, and then went to look for his son.

'I know everything--you have deceived me. Get out of my sight at once--I
have done with you,' he stammered, choking with passion as he came up to
the young man, who was cutting a stick in front of the door, whistling
gaily the while.

'But, father--'

'You are no son of mine; I have only one now. Begone, or it will be the
worse for you,' and as he spoke he lifted up his whip.

The young man shrank back. He feared lest his father should fall down in
a fit, his face was so red and his eyes seemed bursting from his head.
But it was no use staying: perhaps next morning the old man might listen
to reason, though in his heart the son felt that he would never take
back his words. So he turned slowly away, and walked heavily along a
path which ended in a cave on the side of his hill, and there he sat
through the night, thinking of what had happened.

Yes, he had been wrong, there was no doubt of that, and he did not quite
know how it had come about. He had meant to have told his father all
about it, and he was s