Having thus spoken, Marguerite left the house, and after going through the garden gate, she entered a pretty lane which was abundantly blessed by Nature with a quantity of ferns and wild flowers. It was just beginning to grow dusk, and she saw not far off Jacques Gaultier and her brother. The latter was singing in his native patois a gay song, much to the horror of Jacques, who thought it was dreadful to do such a thing. Dropping his usual air of hypocritical stiffness (adopted by so many to fall in with the custom of the times), he hastened forward to meet Marguerite, and with a show of politeness, wonderful for the rough Jacques, raised his hat and said, "Good evening, Marguerite; it is my fault that thy brother is late; I kept him while I was getting ready some bobbins which I have made in the hope that thou wilt take them from me."
"I thank thee, Jacques Gaultier, but I do not want thy bobbins; keep them for some other girl: I am teaching many this same work, and no doubt you will find some one glad to get them. I am going to-night where I shall get a set made by some one whom I like better than Jacques Gaultier. My father is waiting, so go to him; come Hirzel, don't delay me longer."
Jacques moved off muttering to himself, and with a most murderous look on his dark face. Poor Charlie would have fared badly had he been in this man's power just now!
CHAPTER III.
We will follow Gaultier into the mill, leaving Marguerite and her brother to pursue their intention of having a walk, and hear what old Pierre has to say. On Jacques entering the room he found the old man in a state of great disquietude—in fact, in a very great rage. He had by no means recovered his daughter's assertion that she would never marry anyone but Charles Heyward.
"Good evening, Jacques, I sent for thee on a matter of great importance to thyself. I know thou did'st love my girl Marguerite, and that thou had'st a desire to marry her. Art thou still of that mind?" Jacques was somewhat surprised both at the old man's manner and at this opening address, but replied, "Truly I am, but I fear she will never consent to take me for her husband; she hates me, and loves that soldier with red cheeks and bold forward air. I wish he were far from here; but perhaps she would still think of him and never look on me. Even to-night she had not a civil word for me, though I stayed at home to make these things for her and lost my place at market."
"And serve thee right. What business hast thou to encourage the girl in her vanities? But thou said'st just now thou would'st like to have that fellow out of this. So would I, and the whole lot of those lawless soldiers. Can'st thou not think of some means to catch him"?
"Well, Father Pierre, I wouldn't like—-