But one day M. D'arc drank too much ale in the tavern, and his daughter came to fetch him home. She was tall and handsome, and when our hands joined to lift her father to his feet, I felt a spasm of excitement trace its way down my spine. She smiled at me shyly, and I smiled back.

"Shall I help you home?" I asked.

"No, thank you kindly. It is not necessary." And she turned toward the door with her burden. As she stepped through the threshold she called back "I am Jeanne."

I saw her next in the fields. My landlord's sheep were grazing and I was sent there to attend them. Behind a hillock I heard a spirited whistling and when I peeped around to see the musician, there was Jeanne, lying flat on her back, looking at the sky. I called to her and she jumped up and greeted me. Better had it been for both of us had I not stumbled upon her that day.

From that time on we were inseparable. Jeanne was strange. She intrigued me, so unlike she was to the other girls in the village. And she seemed to like to be with me, although what I had to offer her I did not know.

One evening, months later, I went to her and told her that I was going away. My parents were sending me to a city fifty miles distant, to work in the home of my uncle. To my dismay, Jeanne was aghast.

"Hauviette, you are leaving me!" she said, incredulously. I was feeling sadly about it, too, but the thought of the new adventure before me was upmost in my mind, and I did not appear so grieved as I might have.

"You will find another friend, Jeanne," I comforted. She looked dreadfully hurt. "Another friend, Hauviette? But could I find another you? One that I should love as much as you?" Her voice was rising shrilly.

"What am I to do?" I complained. "My work in the Inn is taken over. My father and mother cannot afford to keep me idle in the house..." I was beginning to resent her possessive manner.

"Nevertheless you cannot leave me," said Jeanne firmly.

So it was settled that I go to live with her and her family. I was keenly disappointed that my trip was so ruthlessly cancelled, but the fascination that was Jeanne's was still strong within me. I did not let her know that I felt imposed upon.

Time went by and Jeanne loved me more and more, until she could barely let me out of her sight. At first I was flattered and entertained, but little by little I became annoyed and evaded her as much as I could.

There was a young fisherman in the village, too, who had cast his net for me, and I was feeling strongly the yoke I wore. If only I had those days to live again, how tenderly, how sweetly, would I use my Jeanne. Alas, the evil is done!

One night the squall broke. I had slipped unnoticed out of the cottage door and went walking on the quay with young Gabriel. To my horror. Jeanne came angrily after me, and with a burst of recrimination upon the heads of both my unfortunate swain and myself, she fled, weeping, into the night.

It was with a great deal of trepidation that I made my way home that night. Jeanne was waiting for me in the room we shared. At first she was sarcastic, then bitter, finally, her fury mounting, she struck me in the face. For a petrified moment we stared at one another. Then I burst into tears and Jeanne gathered me in her arms. Her anger was done . . . but mine was beginning. When she struck me, she loosed within my body some demon. Upon her I turned that demon. Today Jeanne is dead. . . God help me!

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