to me," Charley said to the muttering and weeping old woman. He caught
her shoulder with his hand, for she seemed scarcely to heed.

She nodded. "Yes, yes, M'sieu', I will never speak." Rosalie was
standing in the door. "Go quickly, Mademoiselle," he said. She
disappeared with the iron cross, and flying across the street, thrust it
inside the post-office, then ran to the house of the Notary.




CHAPTER XX

THE RETURN OF THE TAILOR

Twenty minutes later the tailor was lying in his bed, breathing, but
still unconscious, the Notary, M'sieu', and the doctor of the next
parish, who by chance was in Chaudiere, beside him. Charley's face was
drawn and haggard with pain, for he had helped to carry old Louis to bed,
though every motion of his arms gave him untold agony. In the doorway
stood Rosalie and Margot Patry.

"Will he live?" asked the Notary.

The doctor shook his head. "A few hours, perhaps. He fell downstairs?"

Charley nodded. There was silence for some time, as the doctor went on
with his ministrations, and the Notary sat drumming his fingers on the
little table beside the bed. The two women stole away to the kitchen,
where Rosalie again pressed secrecy on Margot. In the interest of the