"It was my custom to walk to the mill every day--to watch the work on the
flume. It was only four miles away across the fields and through the
woods, making a walk of much charm--especially in the autumn, when the
colours of the foliage are so fine, and the air has a touch of
pensiveness, so that one is induced to reflection."

There was the slightest tinge of impatience in the Judge's response.
"Yes, yes, I understand. You walked to study life and to reflect and to
enjoy your intimacy with nature, but also to see our friend Zoe and her
home. And I do not wonder. She has a charm which makes me sad--
for her."

"So I have felt, so I have felt for her, monsieur. When she is gayest,
and when, as it might seem, I am quite happy, talking to her, or
picnicking, or idling on the river, or helping her with her lessons,
I have sadness, I know not why."

The Judge pressed his friend's arm firmly. His voice grew more
insistent. "Now, Maitre Fille, I think I understand the story, but there
are lacunee which you must fill. You say the thing happened three days
ago--now, when will the work be finished?"

"The work will be finished to-morrow, monsieur. Only one workman is
left, and he will be quit of his task to-night."

"So the thing--the comedy or tragedy will come to an end to-morrow?"
remarked the Judge seriously. "How did you find out that the workmen
go tomorrow, maitre?"

"Jean Jacques--he told me yesterday."