farmhouse.




CHAPTER VI

It was about ten o'clock. Lights were burning in every window. At a
table in the dining-room sat Monsieur and Madame Lavilette, the father of
Magon Farcinelle, and Shangois, the notary. The marriage contract was
before them. They had reached a point of difficulty. Farcinelle was
stipulating for five acres of river-land as another item in Sophie's dot.

The corners tightened around Madame's mouth. Lavilette scratched his
head, so that the hair stood up like flying tassels of corn. The land
in question lay next a portion of Farcinelle's own farm, with a river
frontage. On it was a little house and shed, and no better garden-stuff
grew in the parish than on this same five acres.

"But I do not own the land," said Lavilette. "You've got a mortgage on
it," answered Farcinelle. "Foreclose it."

"Suppose I did foreclose; you couldn't put the land in the marriage
contract until it was mine."

The notary shrugged his shoulder ironically, and dropped his chin in his
hand as he furtively eyed the two men. Farcinelle was ready for the
emergency. He turned to Shangois.

"I've got everything ready for the foreclosure," said he. "Couldn't it