"Well, there was a good lump of a fellow who had been a soldier, and he
picked out a girl in the Seigneury of Beaugard to make his wife. It is
said the girl herself was not set for the man, for she was of finer stuff
than the peasants about her, and showed it. But her father and mother
had a dozen other children, and what was this girl, this Falise, to do?
She said yes to the man, the time was fixed for the marriage, and it came
along.

"So. At the very hour of the wedding Beaugard came by, for, the church
was in mending, and he had given leave it should be in his own chapel.
Well, he rode by just as the bride was coming out with the man--Garoche.
When Beaugard saw Falise, he gave a whistle, then spoke in his throat,
reined up his horse, and got down. He fastened his eyes on the girl's.
A strange look passed between them--he had never seen her before, but she
had seen him often, and when he was gone had helped the housekeeper with
his rooms. She had carried away with her a stray glove of his. Of
course it sounds droll, and they said of her when all came out that it
was wicked; but evil is according to a man's own heart, and the girl had
hid this glove as she hid whatever was in her soul--hid it even from the
priest.

"Well, the Baron looked and she looked, and he took off his hat, stepped
forward, and kissed her on the cheek. She turned pale as a ghost, and
her eyes took the colour that her cheeks lost. When he stepped back he
looked close at the husband. 'What is your name?' he said. 'Garoche,
M'sieu' le Baron,' was the reply. 'Garoche, Garoche,' he said, eyeing
him up and down. 'You have been a soldier?' 'Yes, M'sieu' le Baron.'
'You have served with me?' 'Against you, M'sieu' le Baron . . . when
Bigot came fighting.' 'Better against me than for me,' said the Baron,