CHAPTER VII.

A THUNDER CLAP.


Blasi, the lounger, stood in his doorway in the clear sunshine of this
lovely summer morning, both hands plunged deep into his pockets as was his
wont, and looked about him as if to see whether everything in the outer
world was the same as yesterday.

Judith came out to the well, carrying her water-jug on her head.

"Look out, Blasi, you are losing something," she cried. Blasi looked on
the ground, turned about, and searched behind and before.

"I don't see anything," he said, and stuffed his hands deeper into his
pockets.

"It's always so with me," said Judith, "when I've lost anything, I can't
see it."

"Oh ho, you're making a fool of me again!"

"That's all the thanks I get for telling you that you are losing
something, and I was just going to make you a present that is worth more
than five francs to a fellow like you."