"Hark ye a minute," said the farmer, "I have something to say to
you!--Come!--don't be afraid--just two words."

"You can say them out loud. I have no secrets with you."

"Come and get your money, at least."

"My money? You don't owe me anything, thank God!"

"I suspected as much," said Germain in an undertone; "but never mind,
Marie, listen to what he has to say to you--for, for my part, I am
curious to find out. You can tell me afterward: I have my reasons for
that. Go beside his horse--I won't lose sight of you."

Marie took three steps toward the farmer, who said to her, leaning
forward on the pommel of his saddle, and lowering his voice:

"Here's a bright louis-d'or for you, little one! you won't say anything,
understand? I'll say that I concluded you weren't strong enough for the
work on my farm.--And don't let anything more be said about it. I'll
come and see you again one of these days, and if you haven't said
anything, I'll give you something else. And then, if you're more
reasonable, you'll only have to say the word: I will take you home with
me, or else come and talk with you in the pasture at dusk. What present
shall I bring you?"

"There is my gift to you, monsieur!" replied little Marie aloud,
throwing his louis-d'or in his face with no gentle hand. "I thank you
very much, and I beg you to let me know beforehand when you are coming