The goats were so stubborn to-night.
They broke through the hedge, and I had to chase them over three fields." "Have done with thy lying excuses," was the rough answer.

"Thou shalt have no supper to-night.

Maybe an empty stomach will teach thee when my commands fail.

Hasten and drive the goats into the pen." There was a scowl on Brossard's burly red face that made Jules's heart bump up in his throat.

Brossard was only the caretaker of the Ciseaux place, but he had been there for twenty years,--so long that he felt himself the master.