"Stand back! Stand back!" cries the Senechal to the thronging crowd; and
to the Constable, "Keep them back, you, Elie Guille!" to which Elie
Guille growls, "Par made, but that's not easy, see you!"
The Doctor straightens up from his brief examination, and says a word to
the Senechal, and to the men about him.
A rough stretcher is made out of a couple of oars and a sail, and the
sombre procession passes through the gloomy old tunnel into the Creux
Road, and wends its way up to the school-house for proper inquiry to be
made as to how Tom Hamon came by his death.
And close behind the stretcher walks the dark-faced woman, with her eyes
like coals of fire, and her dress dragged open as though to stop her
from choking.
"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!" she says in perpetual
iteration, through her clenched teeth. But to look at her face and eyes
you might think it was rather the devil she was calling on.
For, ungracious as their lives had been in many respects, yet this
violent breaking of the yoke has left the survivor sore and wounded, and
furious to vent her rage on whom at present she knows not.
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