THE DEVIL'S POOL
when he saw Germain in company with the farmer, he stopped dismayed, and stood irresolute.
"Come, my Pierre, come. It is I," cried the husbandman, as he leaped from his horse and ran toward his boy to take him in his arms; "and where is little Marie?"
"She is hiding there, because she is afraid of that dreadful black man, and so am I."
"You need n't be afraid. I am here. Marie, Marie. It is I."
Marie crept toward them, but the moment she saw Germain with the farmer close behind, she sprang forward, and throwing herself into his arms, clung to him as a daughter to her father.
"Oh, my brave Germain!" she cried, "you will defend me. I am not afraid when you are near."
Germain shuddered. He looked at Marie. She was pale; her clothes were torn by the thorns which had scratched her as she passed, rushing toward the brake like a stag chased by the hunters. But neither shame nor despair were in her face.
"Your master wishes to speak to you," said he, his eyes fixed on her features.
"My master!" she exclaimed fiercely; "that man is no master of mine, and he never shall be. You,
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