LOST AND WON.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2425, 13 February 1909, Page 11 (Supplement)

LOST AND WON.

vßy Julia Munro.)

A shrill blast from tho whistle and a cry. The thresher slopped and the workers rushed to his side. With the greatest difficulty they succeeded in getting him, their master, Cliaguy, out of the steel claws of tho machine. The wounded man groaned for a moment. then he swore like a trooper. His right arm was one bloody pulp from wrist to shoulder. He was carried to the house and as the men were carrying him across the yard the servant girl, Jeannine, appeared in the door. She had been scared by the sudden stopping of the thresher. “What is the matter?” “It is the master who got his arm crushed in the thresher.”

She looked at the bloody stump and began to sob aloud. “It seems to hurt you a lot more than it hurts me,” the wounded man said phlegmatically. They wanted to put him to bed, but lie refused.

“Put me in the armchair near the window. ”

He was placed in the large, clumsy, uncomfortable armchair. Jeannine brought linen rags and wanted to put a bandage on. “That won’t do any good. Jeannine, just t-ie something tightly around what is left and then tel! Jean to hitch up and go for tho doctor. Let them. tell the doctor he must be here before sundown and cut off my arm. Patchwork won’t do here.” Then he said to the others: “Now you just go back to work. It is no use to stop everything because I have lost an arm. The thresher costs enough money to hire anyway.”

When Jeannine. and the others had gone Cliaguy began to think. He was a strong, powerful man, who eared nothing for the pain. The accident was unfortunate, but the results still more serious. By working from dawn to dark he had been able to do without a hired hand except during tho harvest time, even though he had ono hundred acres. The two mares that were now resting in the stable had been as tireless as he, hut in the future he would not be able to plough. He would have to get a hired man, and that would cost him at least >SOO francs a year. How was he. to make that money? When ho had reached this point lie was filled with remorse for not having kept a promise given to a dying person. It was his wife, who would not die, until she was satisfied she had arranged everything so . that her death would mean the smallest possible loss. During her long illness this thought had worried her.' Her fear did not arise from tho thought that tho heritage should be scattered, for she had no children, but from love of tho soil to which she had devoted the work of her life.

At last she had found a way out, and said to her husband:“Chagiiy, I have thought it all over. You art.only thirty and not fit to remain a widower, first becauso you are too young, and next because a farm without a housewife does not amount to anything. You must marry Jeannine. She has been with us lor ten years and never given any cause for complaint. She is young and strong and willing, and that makes up for the fact that she can bring no dowry. Promise mo to marry her and I can die in peace.” Cliaguy had promised, but: he. had always put off the matter. Not that he was blind to the robust beauty or her quick hands, hut he was always thinking of what improvements he could make if lie were to marry a widow or girl with money. And thus three years had passed and lie was still a widower. His blood was boiling now when he thought of himself with one arm, fit only to weed turnips. AVho would marry him now? Nobody—-not even

Jeannine. Ho would have to have a stranger cultivate his farm. ITis income would go down, tho value of Ids farm would deteriorate and his savings would disappear. That arm was to cost him a pile of money. If ho had only kept his promise—then ho would have had J eannine, hut of course, she would leave him now, too. Jeannine entered.

“The hoy has gone,” she said, “and the doctor ought to be here by 2 o’clock.” When she saw how sad her master looked, she continued softly: “Do not worry too. much about it, master, perhaps the doctor may be able to save your arm.” He looked at her as she stood there, tall and strong, her firm round arms on her hips. Her face was full of pity, but strong, like that of a woman who does not want to betray her feelings. Chagiiy thought she had never looked as beautiful as now. “It is not tho accident I am thinking of,” he said, “it is what is to come. I shall have to pay at least 500 francs to a man to do things boro and within--ten miles I do not know of a singlo fellow -who can plough a straight furrow. D the whole business.” “Is that all that worries you?” “Yes, d it —isn’t that enough?” “You must not talk like that, master.” ' - “Why not?” “I will show you why.” She left tho room. He turned a little in Iris chair, but almost howled with pain. He looked through the window across tho fields. It would take many days to plough them —and here ho was sitting doing nothing. Who was to plough the long furrow across the holds and throw out tho seed for a new harvest?

• Suddenly ho heard a voice in the stable.—it was Jeannine: “Hello, Gray, get up now—come on now, Charlotte!”

What, did that mean? Did Jeannine intend to plough? That would never work, though she had tried often enough in fun. Gathering all Ins strength, lie succeeded in raising himself, and as lie looked through the window lie saw Jeannine making the first furrow. He was almost moved to tears as ho saw how well she die u and liow splendid she looked behind tho plough with her sleeves rolled up, her hair blowing about her head and her young firm bosom heaving with excitement.

.- Cliaguy started at her as if bewitched, then tho tears came into hi-; eyes as ho exclaimed in despair, “Oh. my God!”

When she came back near the house Cliaguy, with an almost superhuman effort raised the window and called out, “Oh, Jeannine !” - “Yes, master! Don’t I know bow to plough?” “I can do it no better myself—but. oh. Jeannine, you are a splendid girl. What a pity I have lost my arm, Oi I should ask you to be my wife.” tShc took hold of the plough handle. looked at him, and said in a voice that trembled a little : ••Just- as you want to, master, the arm won’t make no difference. Vou know that my two arms are always yours if you want to take them.