"Almost bald, the old crone! I'll pay you out for this trick. Who the devil are you? Quick, out with it, or else I'll call the other fellows in to help me to find out!"
Perrin moved quite close behind the master, who was too angry to notice him. The girl lifted her eyes to Dominic. She spoke quietly.
"I am Ellenor Cartier."
"I might have guessed it, fool that I am! And you are a greater to think I would even look at you now! You must be quite mad. All I ever cared for in you was your devilry, and your eyes that used to set me all on fire with love. And now you look like a scared rabbit, a white, pinched thing! And your eyes are hideous! And your hair is gone! How dare you cheat me, you ugly creature!"
She had clasped her hands together; and gazed at him in stupefaction.
Suddenly, he turned on his heel and cried in a loud, far-carrying voice—
"Come here, you men, all of you, and help me to throw the witch, Ellenor Cartier, into the bonfire! She's too devilish ugly to live."
The lower sort of the throng laughed uproariously, and turned to stare at the poor girl. But cries of "Shame! shame!" rent the air. Perrin stepped forward, and, with a well-planted blow and a skilful twist of his leg, he threw Dominic to the ground.
"See to the drunken brute!" he cried.
Then he turned to the trembling girl.