The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Headswoman, by Kenneth Grahame

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Title: The Headswoman

Author: Kenneth Grahame

Illustrator: Marcia Lane Foster

Release Date: November 8, 2010 [EBook #34243]

Language: English

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The Headswoman

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

THE GOLDEN AGE

DREAM DAYS

PAGAN PAPERS

THE BODLEY HEAD

THEHEA D SW O M A N

By Kenneth Grahame

With Illustrations in Colourand Woodcuts byMARCIA LANE FOSTER

L O N D O NJohn Lane The Bodley Head LimitedNew York John Lane Company

First Published 1898Illustrated Edition 1921

Printed In Great Britain by R. Clay & Sons, Ltd., Bungay, Suffolk.

List of Illustrations“NOW THAT WE HAVE BEEN PROPERLY INTRODUCED ALLOW ME TO

APOLOGISE” Frontispiece

Facing page

“YOU SEE I AM FAMILIAR WITH THE ROUTINE.... GOOD-MORNING, GENTLEMEN!” 8

“AU REVOIR, Sir! If you should happen to be in the Market-place any Morning” 28

ENDEAVOURING TO CONVEY THE TARDY PRISONER TO THE SCAFFOLD 32

“NAY, PARDON ME, SWEET ONE, ’TWAS BUT A JEST OF MINE” 36

BUT AT THIS POINT A HUBBUB AROSE AT THE FOOT OF THE SCAFFOLD 42

“NOW, MARK MY WORDS, YOU MISERABLE LITTLE BLADDER-O’-LARD, SEE IF IDON’T TAKE THIS OUT OF YOUR SKIN PRESENTLY” 44

AN INVITATION ARRIVED, BACKED BY AN ESCORT OF HALF-A-DOZEN VERY TALLARCHERS 46

The Headswoman

I

IT was a bland, sunny morning of a mediæval May,—an old-style Mayof the most typical quality; and the Council of the little town of St.Radegonde were assembled, as was their wont at that hour, in thepicturesque upper chamber of the Hôtel de Ville, for the dispatch ofthe usual municipal business. Though the date was early sixteenthcentury, the members of this particular town-council possessedconsiderable resemblance to those of similar assemblies in theseventeenth, eighteenth, and even the nineteenth centuries, in a generalabsence of any characteristic at all—unless a pervading hopelessinsignificance can be considered as such. All the character in theroom, indeed, seemed to be concentrated in the girl who stood beforethe table, erect, yet at her ease, facing the members in general and Mr.Mayor in particular; a delicate-handed, handsome girl of someeighteen summers, whose tall, supple figure was well set off by thequiet, though tasteful mourning in which she was clad.

“Well, gentlemen,” the Mayor was saying, “this little businessappears to be—er—quite in order, and it only remains for me to—er—review the facts. You are aware that the town has lately had themisfortune to lose its executioner,—a gentleman who, I may say,performed the duties of his office with neatness and dispatch, and gavethe fullest satisfaction to all with whom he—er—came in contact. Butthe Council has already, in a vote of condolence, expressed its senseof the—er—striking qualities of the deceased. You are doubtless alsoaware that the office is hereditary, being secured to a particular familyin this town, so long as any one of its members is ready and willing totake it up. The deed lies before me, and appears to be—er—quite inorder. It is true that on this occasion the Council might have beencalled upon to consider and examine the title of the claimant, the latelamented official having only left a daughter,—she who now standsbefore you; but I am happy to say that Jeanne—the young lady inquestion—with what I am bound to call great good-feeling on her part,has saved us all trouble in that respect, by formally applying for thefamily post, with all its—er—duties, privileges, and emoluments; andher application appears to be—er—quite in order. There is, therefore,under the circumstances, nothing left for us to do but to declare the saidapplicant duly elected. I would wish, however, before I—er—sitdown, to make it quite clear to the—er—fair petitioner, that if alaudable desire to save the Council trouble in the matter has led her toa—er—hasty conclusion, it is quite open to her to reconsider herposition. Should she determine not to press her claim, the succession

to the post would then apparently devolve upon her cousin Enguerrand,well known to you all as a practising advocate in the courts of thistown. Though the youth has not, I admit, up to now proved aconspicuous success in the profession he has chosen, still there is noreason why a bad lawyer should not make an excellent executioner;and in view of the close friendship—may I even say attachment?—existing between the cousins, it is possible that this young lady may, indue course, practically enjoy the solid emoluments of the positionwithout the necessity of discharging its (to some girls) uncongenialduties. And so, though not the rose herself, she would still be—er—near the rose!” And the Mayor resumed his seat, chuckling over hislittle pleasantry, which the keener wits of the Council proceeded toexplain at length to the more obtuse.

“Permit me, Mr. Mayor,” said the girl quietly, “first to thank youfor what was evidently the outcome of a kindly though misdirectedfeeling on your part; and then to set you right as to the grounds of myapplication for the post to which you admit my hereditary claim. As tomy cousin, your conjecture as to the feeling between us is greatlyexaggerated; and I may further say at once, from my knowledge of hischaracter, that he is little qualified either to adorn or to dignify animportant position such as this. A man who has achieved suchindifferent success in a minor and less exacting walk of life, is hardlylikely to shine in an occupation demanding punctuality, concentration,judgment,—all the qualities, in fine, that go to make a good businessman. But this is beside the question. My motive, gentlemen, indemanding what is my due, is a simple and (I trust) an honest one, andI desire that there should be no misunderstanding. It is my wish to bedependent on no one. I am both willing and able to work, and I onlyask for what is the common right of humanity,—admission to thelabour market. How many poor, toiling women would simply jump at achance like this which fortune, by the accident of birth, lays open tome! And shall I, from any false deference to that conventional voicewhich proclaims this thing as ‘nice,’ and that thing as ‘not nice,’ rejecta handicraft which promises me both artistic satisfaction and acompetence? No, gentlemen; my claim is a small one,—only a fairday’s wage for a fair day’s work. But I can accept nothing less, norconsent to forgo my rights, even for any contingent remainder ofpossible cousinly favour!”

There was a touch of scorn in her fine contralto voice as shefinished speaking; the Mayor himself beamed approval. He was notwealthy, and had a large family of daughters; so Jeanne’s sentimentsseemed to him entirely right and laudable.

“Well, gentlemen,” he began briskly, “then all we’ve got to do, isto——”

“Beg pardon, your worship,” put in Master Robinet, the tanner,who had been sitting with a petrified, Bill-the-Lizard sort ofexpression during the speechifying: “but are we to understand as howthis here young lady is going to be the public executioner of this heretown?”

“Really, neighbour Robinet,” said the Mayor, somewhat pettishly,“you’ve got ears like the rest of us, I suppose; and you know thecontents of the deed; and you’ve had my assurance that it’s—er—quitein order; and as it’s getting towards lunch-time——”

“But it’s unheard of,” protested honest Robinet. “There hasn’tever been no such thing—leastways not as I’ve heard tell.”

“Well, well, well,” said the Mayor, “everything must have abeginning, I suppose. Times are different now, you know. There’s themarch of intellect, and—er—all that sort of thing. We must advancewith the times—don’t you see, Robinet?—advance with the times!”

“Well, I’m——” began the tanner.But no one heard, on this occasion, the tanner’s opinion as to his

condition, physical or spiritual; for the clear contralto cut short hisobtestations.

“If there’s really nothing more to be said, Mr. Mayor,” sheremarked, “I need not trespass longer on your valuable time. I proposeto take up the duties of my office to-morrow morning, at the usual hour.The salary will, I assume, be reckoned from the same date; and I shallmake the customary quarterly application for such additionalemoluments as may have accrued to me during that period. You see Iam familiar with the routine. Good-morning, gentlemen!” And as shepassed from the Council chamber, her small head held erect, even thetanner felt that she took with her a large portion of the May sunshinewhich was condescending that morning to gild their deliberations.

II

ONE evening, a few weeks later, Jeanne was taking a stroll on theramparts of the town, a favourite and customary walk of hers whenbusiness cares were over. The pleasant expanse of country that layspread beneath her—the rich sunset, the gleaming, sinuous river, andthe noble old château that dominated both town and pasture from itsadjacent height—all served to stir and bring out in her those poeticimpulses which had lain dormant during the working day; while thecool evening breeze smoothed out and obliterated any little jars orworries which might have ensued during the practice of a profession inwhich she was still something of a novice. This evening she felt fairlyhappy and content. True, business was rather brisk, and her days hadbeen fully occupied; but this mattered little so long as her modestefforts were appreciated, and she was now really beginning to feelthat, with practice, her work was creditably and artistically done. In asatisfied, somewhat dreamy mood, she was drinking in the varioussweet influences of the evening, when she perceived her cousinapproaching.

“Good-evening, Enguerrand,” cried Jeanne pleasantly; she wasthinking that since she had begun to work for her living she had hardlyseen him—and they used to be such good friends. Could anything haveoccurred to offend him?

Enguerrand drew near somewhat moodily, but could not helpallowing his expression to relax at sight of her fair young face, set inits framework of rich brown hair, wherein the sunset seemed to havetangled itself and to cling, reluctant to leave it.

“Sit down, Enguerrand,” continued Jeanne, “and tell me whatyou’ve been doing this long time. Been very busy, and winningforensic fame and gold?”

“Well, not exactly,” said Enguerrand, moody once more. “Thefact is, there’s so much interest required nowadays at the courts thatunassisted talent never gets a chance. And you, Jeanne?”

“Oh, I don’t complain,” answered Jeanne lightly. “Of course, it’sfair-time just now, you know, and we’re always busy then. But workwill be lighter soon, and then I’ll get a day off, and we’ll have adelightful ramble and picnic in the woods, as we used to do when wewere children. What fun we had in those old days, Enguerrand! Do youremember when we were quite little tots, and used to play atexecutions in the back-garden, and you were a bandit and a buccaneer,and all sorts of dreadful things, and I used to chop off your head with a

paper-knife? How pleased dear father used to be!”“Jeanne,” said Enguerrand, with some hesitation, “you’ve touched

upon the very subject that I came to speak to you about. Do you know,dear, I can’t help feeling—it may be unreasonable, but still the feelingis there—that the profession you have adopted is not quite—is just alittle——”

“Now, Enguerrand!” said Jeanne, an angry flash sparkling in hereyes. She was a little touchy on this subject, the word she mostaffected to despise being also the one she most dreaded,—theadjective “unladylike.”

“Don’t misunderstand me, Jeanne,” went on Enguerrandimploringly: “you may naturally think that, because I should havesucceeded to the post, with its income and perquisites, had yourelinquished your claim, there is therefore some personal feeling in myremonstrances. Believe me, it is not so. My own interests do not weighwith me for a moment. It is on your account, Jeanne, and yours alone,that I ask you to consider whether the higher æsthetic qualities, which Iknow you possess, may not become cramped and thwarted by ‘thetrivial round, the common task,’ which you have lightly undertaken.However laudable a professional life may be, one always feels thatwith a delicate organism such as woman, some of the bloom maypossibly get rubbed off the peach.”

“Well, Enguerrand,” said Jeanne, composing herself with aneffort, though her lips were set hard, “I will do you the justice tobelieve that personal advantage does not influence you, and I will tryto reason calmly with you, and convince you that you are simply hide-bound by old-world prejudice. Now, take yourself, for instance, whocome here to instruct me: what does your profession amount to, whenall’s said and done? A mass of lies, quibbles, dodges, and tricks, thatwould make any self-respecting executioner blush! And even with thedirty weapons at your command, you make but a poor show of it. Therewas that wretched fellow you defended only two days ago. (I was incourt during the trial—professional interest, you know.) Well, he hadhis regular alibi all ready, as clear as clear could be; only you mustneeds go and mess and bungle the thing up, so that, just as I expectedall along, he was passed on to me for treatment in due course. You maylike to have his opinion—that of a shrewd, though unlettered person.‘It’s a real pleasure, miss,’ he said, ‘to be handled by you. You knowsyour work, and you does your work—though p’raps I ses it asshouldn’t. If that blooming fool of a mouthpiece of mine’—he wasreferring to you, dear, in your capacity of advocate—‘had known hisbusiness half as well as you do yours, I shouldn’t a bin here now!’ And

you know, Enguerrand, he was perfectly right.”“Well, perhaps he was,” admitted Enguerrand. “You see, I had

been working at a sonnet the night before, and I couldn’t get the rhymesright, and they would keep coming into my head in court and mixingthemselves up with the alibi. But look here, Jeanne, when you saw Iwas going off the track, you might have given me a friendly hint, youknow—for old times’ sake, if not for the prisoner’s!”

“I daresay,” replied Jeanne calmly: “perhaps you’ll tell me why Ishould sacrifice my interests because you’re unable to look after yours.You forget that I receive a bonus, over and above my salary, upon eachexercise of my functions!”

“True,” said Enguerrand gloomily: “I did forget that. I wish I hadyour business aptitudes, Jeanne.”

“I daresay you do,” remarked Jeanne. “But you see, dear, how allyour arguments fall to the ground. You mistake a prepossession for alogical base. Now if I had gone, like that Clairette you used to dangleafter, and been waiting-woman to some grand lady in a château,—athin-blooded compound of drudge and sycophant,—then, I suppose,you’d have been perfectly satisfied. So feminine! So genteel!”

“She’s not a bad sort of girl, little Claire,” said Enguerrandreflectively (thereby angering Jeanne afresh): “but putting her aside,—of course you could always beat me at argument, Jeanne; you’d havemade a much better lawyer than I. But you know, dear, how much Icare about you; and I did hope that on that account even a prejudice,however unreasonable, might have some little weight. And I’m notalone, let me tell you, in my views. There was a fellow in court onlyto-day, who was saying that yours was only a succès d’estime, and thatwoman, as a naturally talkative and hopelessly unpunctual animal,could never be more than a clever amateur in the profession you havechosen.”

“That will do, Enguerrand,” said Jeanne proudly; “it seems thatwhen argument fails, you can stoop so low as to insult me through mysex. You men are all alike,—steeped in brutish masculine prejudice.Now go away, and don’t mention the subject to me again till you’requite reasonable and nice.”

III

JEANNE passed a somewhat restless night after her small scene withher cousin, waking depressed and unrefreshed. Though she had carriedmatters with so high a hand, and had scored so distinctly all around,she had been more agitated than she had cared to show. She likedEnguerrand; and more especially did she like his admiration for her;and that chance allusion to Clairette contained possibilities that werealarming. In embracing a professional career, she had never thought fora moment that it could militate against that due share of admiration towhich, as a girl, she was justly entitled; and Enguerrand’s viewsseemed this morning all the more narrow and inexcusable. She roselanguidly, and as soon as she was dressed sent off a little note to theMayor, saying that she had a nervous headache and felt out of sorts,and begging to be excused from attendance on that day; and the missivereached the Mayor just as he was taking his usual place at the head ofthe Board.

“Dear, dear!” said the kind-hearted old man, as soon as he hadread the letter to his fellow-councilmen: “I’m very sorry. Poor girl!Here, one of you fellows, just run round and tell the gaoler there won’tbe any business to-day. Jeanne’s seedy. It’s put off till to-morrow. Andnow, gentlemen, the agenda——”

“Really, your worship,” exploded Robinet, “this is simplyridiculous!”

“Upon my word, Robinet,” said the Mayor, “I don’t know what’sthe matter with you. Here’s a poor girl unwell,—and a more hard-working girl isn’t in the town,—and instead of sympathising with her,and saying you’re sorry, you call it ridiculous! Suppose you had aheadache yourself! You wouldn’t like——”

“But it is ridiculous,” maintained the tanner stoutly. “Who everheard of an executioner having a nervous headache? There’s noprecedent for it. And ‘out of sorts,’ too! Suppose the criminals saidthey were out of sorts, and didn’t feel up to being executed?”

“Well, suppose they did,” replied the Mayor, “we’d try and meetthem half-way, I daresay. They’d have to be executed some time orother, you know. Why on earth are you so captious about trifles? Theprisoners won’t mind, and I don’t mind: nobody’s inconvenienced, andeverybody’s happy!”

“You’re right there, Mr. Mayor,” put in another councilman.“This executing business used to give the town a lot of trouble andbother; now it’s all as easy as kiss-your-hand. Instead of objecting, as

they used to do, and wanting to argue the point and kick up a row, thefellows as is told off for execution come skipping along in themorning, like a lot of lambs in May-time. And then the fun there is onthe scaffold! The jokes, the back answers, the repartees! And never aword to shock a baby! Why, my little girl, as goes through the market-place every morning—on her way to school, you know—she says tome only yesterday, she says, ‘Why, father,’ she says, ‘it’s as good asthe play-actors,’ she says.”

“There again,” persisted Robinet; “I object to that too. They oughtto show a properer feeling. Playing at mummers is one thing, and beingexecuted is another, and people ought to keep ’em separate. In myfather’s time, that sort of thing wasn’t thought good taste, and I don’thold with new-fangled notions.”

“Well, really, neighbour,” said the Mayor, “I think you’re out ofsorts yourself to-day. You must have got out of bed the wrong side thismorning. As for a little joke, more or less, we all know a maiden lovesa merry jest when she’s certain of having the last word! But I’ll tellyou what I’ll do, if it’ll please you; I’ll go round and see Jeanne myselfon my way home, and tell her—quite nicely, you know—that once in away doesn’t matter; but that if she feels her health won’t let her keepregular business hours, she mustn’t think of going on with anythingthat’s bad for her. Like that, don’t you see? And now, gentlemen, let’sread the minutes!”

Thus it came about that Jeanne took her usual walk that eveningwith a ruffled brow and a swelling heart; and her little hand openedand shut angrily as she paced the ramparts. She couldn’t stand beingfound fault with. How could she help having a headache? Those clodsof citizens didn’t know what a highly strung sensitive organisationwas. Absorbed in her reflections, she had taken several turns up anddown the grassy footway before she became aware that she was notalone. A youth, of richer dress and more elegant bearing than thegeneral run of the Radegundians, was leaning in an embrasure,watching the graceful figure with evident interest.

“Something has vexed you, fair maiden?” he observed, comingforward deferentially as soon as he perceived he was noticed; “andcare sits but awkwardly on that smooth young brow.”

“Nay, it is nothing, kind sir,” replied Jeanne; “we girls who workfor our living must not be too sensitive. My employers have beensomewhat exigent, that is all. I did wrong to take it to heart.”

“’Tis the way of the bloated capitalist,” rejoined the young manlightly, as he turned to walk by her side. “They grind us, they grind us;perhaps some day they will come under your hands in turn, and then

you can pay them out. And so you toil and spin, fair lily! And yet,methinks, those delicate hands show little trace of labour?”

“You wrong me, indeed, sir,” replied Jeanne merrily. “Thesehands of mine, that you are so good as to admire, do great execution!”

“I can well believe that your victims are numerous,” he replied;“may I be permitted to rank myself among the latest of them?”

“I wish you a better fortune, kind sir,” answered Jeannedemurely.

“I can imagine no more delightful one,” he replied; “and wheredo you ply your daily task, fair mistress? Not entirely out of sight andaccess, I trust?”

“Nay, sir,” laughed Jeanne, “I work in the market-place mostmornings, and there is no charge for admission; and access is far fromdifficult. Indeed, some complain—but that is no business of mine. Andnow I must be wishing you a good-evening. Nay,”—for he would havedetained her,—“it is not seemly for an unprotected maiden to tarry inconverse with a stranger at this hour. Au revoir, sir! If you shouldhappen to be in the market-place any morning——” And she trippedlightly away. The youth, gazing after her retreating figure, confessedhimself strangely fascinated by this fair unknown, whose particularemployment, by the way, he had forgotten to ask; while Jeanne, as shesped homewards, could not help reflecting that, for style anddistinction, this new acquaintance threw into the shade all theEnguerrands and others she had met hitherto—even in the course ofbusiness.

IV

THE next morning was bright and breezy, and Jeanne was early at herpost, feeling quite a different girl. The busy little market-place was fullof colour and movement, and the gay patches of flowers and fruit, thestrings of fluttering kerchiefs, and the piles of red and yellow pottery,formed an artistic setting to the quiet impressive scaffold which theyframed. Jeanne was in short sleeves, according to the etiquette of heroffice, and her round graceful arms showed snowily against her darkblue skirt and scarlet, tight-fitting bodice. Her assistant looked at herwith admiration.

“Hope you’re better, miss,” he said respectfully. “It was just aswell you didn’t put yourself out to come yesterday; there was nothingparticular to do. Only one fellow, and he said he didn’t care; anythingto oblige a lady!”

“Well, I wish he’d hurry up now, to oblige a lady,” said Jeanne,swinging her axe carelessly to and fro: “ten minutes past the hour; Ishall have to talk to the Mayor about this.”

“It’s a pity there ain’t a better show this morning,” pursued theassistant, as he leant over the rail of the scaffold and spat meditativelyinto the busy throng below. “They do say as how the young Seigneurarrived at the Château yesterday—him as has been finishing hiseducation in Paris, you know. He’s as likely as not to be in the market-place to-day; and if he’s disappointed, he may go off to Paris again,which would be a pity, seeing the Château’s been empty so long. Buthe may go to Paris, or anywhere else he’s a mind to, he won’t seebetter workmanship than in this here little town!”

“Well, my good Raoul,” said Jeanne, colouring slightly at theobvious compliment, “quality, not quantity, is what we aim at here, youknow. If a Paris education has been properly assimilated by theSeigneur, he will not fail to make all the necessary allowances. Butsee, the prison-doors are opening at last!”

They both looked across the little square to the prison, whichfronted the scaffold; and sure enough, a small body of men, the Sheriffat their head, was issuing from the building, conveying, orendeavouring to convey, the tardy prisoner to the scaffold. Thatgentleman, however, seemed to be in a different and less obligingframe of mind from that of the previous day; and at every pace one orother of the guards was shot violently into the middle of the square,propelled by a vigorous kick or blow from the struggling captive. Thecrowd, unaccustomed of late to such demonstrations of feeling, andresenting the prisoner’s want of taste, hooted loudly; but it was notuntil that ingenious mediæval arrangement known as la marche auxcrapauds had been brought to bear on him that the reluctant convictcould be prevailed upon to present himself before the young lady hehad already so unwarrantably detained.

Jeanne’s profession had both accustomed her to surprises andtaught her the futility of considering her clients as drawn from any oneparticular class; yet she could hardly help feeling some astonishmenton recognising her new acquaintance of the previous evening. That,with all his evident amiability of character, he should come to this end,was not in itself a special subject for wonder; but that he should havebeen conversing with her on the ramparts at the hour when—aftercourteously excusing her attendance on the scaffold—he was coolinghis heels in prison for another day, seemed hardly to be accounted for,at first sight. Jeanne, however, reflected that the reconciling ofapparent contradictions was not included in her official duties.

The Sheriff, wiping his heated brow, now read the formal procèsdelivering over the prisoner to the executioner’s hands; “and a nice jobwe’ve had to get him here,” he added on his own account. And theyoung man, who had remained perfectly tractable since his arrival,stepped forward and bowed politely.

“Now that we have been properly introduced,” said hecourteously, “allow me to apologise for any inconvenience you havebeen put to by my delay. The fault was entirely mine, and thesegentlemen are in no way to blame. Had I known whom I was to havethe pleasure of meeting, wings could not have conveyed me swiftlyenough.”

“Do not mention, I pray, the word inconvenience,” repliedJeanne, with that timid grace which so well became her. “I only trustthat any slight discomfort it may be my duty to cause you before wepart will be as easily pardoned. And now—for the morning, alas!advances—any little advice or assistance that I can offer is quite atyour service; for the situation is possibly new, and you may have had

but little experience.”“Faith! none worth mentioning,” said the prisoner gaily. “Treat

me as a raw beginner. Though our acquaintance has been but brief, Ihave the utmost confidence in you.”

“Then, sir,” said Jeanne, blushing, “suppose I were to assist youin removing this gay doublet, so as to give both of us more freedomand less responsibility?”

“A perquisite of the office?” queried the prisoner with a smile, ashe slipped one arm out of its sleeve.

A flush came over Jeanne’s fair brow. “That was ungenerous,”she said.

“Nay, pardon me, sweet one,” said he, laughing: “’twas but apoor jest of mine—in bad taste, I willingly admit.”

“I was sure you did not mean to hurt me,” she replied kindly,while her fingers were busy in turning back the collar of his shirt. Itwas composed, she noticed, of the finest point lace; and she could nothelp a feeling of regret that some slight error—as must, from what sheknew, exist somewhere—should compel her to take a course so atvariance with her real feelings. Her only comfort was that the youthhimself seemed entirely satisfied with his situation. He hummed thelast air from Paris during her ministrations, and when she had quitefinished, kissed the pretty fingers with a metropolitan grace.

“And now, sir,” said Jeanne, “if you will kindly come this way:and please to mind the step—so. Now, if you will have the goodnessto kneel here—nay, the sawdust is perfectly clean; you are my firstclient this morning. On the other side of the block you will find a nick,more or less adapted to the human chin, though a perfect fit cannot, ofcourse, be guaranteed in every case. So! Are you pretty comfortable?”

“A bed of roses,” replied the prisoner. “And what a reallyadmirable view one gets of the valley and the river, from just thisparticular point!”

“Charming, is it not?” replied Jeanne. “I’m so glad you do justiceto it. Some of your predecessors have really quite vexed me by theirinability to appreciate that view. It’s worth coming here to see it. Andnow, to return to business for one moment,—would you prefer to givethe word yourself? Some people do; it’s a mere matter of taste. Or willyou leave yourself entirely in my hands?”

“Oh, in your fair hands,” replied her client, “which I beg you toconsider respectfully kissed once more by your faithful servant tocommand.”

Jeanne, blushing rosily, stepped back a pace, moistening herpalms as she grasped her axe, when a puffing and blowing behindcaused her to turn her head, and she perceived the Mayor hastilyascending the scaffold.

“Hold on a minute, Jeanne, my girl,” he gasped. “Don’t be in ahurry. There’s been some little mistake.”

Jeanne drew herself up with dignity. “I’m afraid I don’t quiteunderstand you, Mr. Mayor,” she replied in freezing accents. “There’sbeen no little mistake on my part that I’m aware of.”

“No, no, no,” said the Mayor apologetically; “but on somebodyelse’s there has. You see it happened in this way: this here youngfellow was going round the town last night; and he’d been dining, Ishould say, and he was carrying on rather free. I will only say so muchin your presence, that he was carrying on decidedly free. So the town-

guard happened to come across him, and he was very high and veryhaughty, he was, and wouldn’t give his name nor yet his address—as agentleman should, you know, when he’s been dining and carrying onfree. So our fellows just ran him in—and it took the pick of them alltheir time to do it, too. Well, then, the other chap who was in prison—the gentleman who obliged you yesterday, you know—what does he dobut slip out and run away in the middle of all the row and confusion;and very inconsiderate and ungentlemanly it was of him to takeadvantage of us in that mean way, just when we wanted a littlesympathy and forbearance. Well, the Sheriff comes this morning tofetch out his man for execution, and he knows there’s only one man toexecute, and he sees there’s only one man in prison, and it all seems assimple as A B C—he never was much of a mathematician, you know—so he fetches our friend here along, quite gaily. And—and that’s how itcame about, you see; hinc illæ lachrymæ, as the Roman poet has it. Sonow I shall just give this young fellow a good talking to, and dischargehim with a caution; and we sha’n’t require you any more to-day,Jeanne, my girl.”

“Now, look here, Mr. Mayor,” said Jeanne severely, “you utterlyfail to grasp the situation in its true light. All these little details may beinteresting in themselves, and doubtless the press will take note ofthem; but they are entirely beside the point. With themuddleheadedness of your officials (which I have frequently remarkedupon) I have nothing whatever to do. All I know is, that this younggentleman has been formally handed over to me for execution, with allthe necessary legal requirements; and executed he has got to be. Whenmy duty has been performed, you are at liberty to reopen the case ifyou like; and any ‘little mistake’ that may have occurred through yourstupidity you can then rectify at your leisure. Meantime, you’ve nolocus standi here at all; in fact, you’ve no business whateverlumbering up my scaffold. So shut up and clear out.”

“Now, Jeanne, do be reasonable,” implored the Mayor. “Youwomen are so precise. You never will make any allowance for thenecessary margin of error in things.”

“If I were to allow the necessary margin for all your errors,Mayor,” replied Jeanne coolly, “the edition would have to be a large-paper one, and even then the text would stand a poor chance. And now,if you don’t allow me the necessary margin to swing my axe, there maybe another ‘little mistake’——”

But at this point a hubbub arose at the foot of the scaffold, andJeanne, leaning over, perceived sundry tall fellows, clad in the liveryof the Seigneur, engaged in dispersing the municipal guard by theagency of well-directed kicks, applied with heartiness and anatomicalknowledge. A moment later, there strode on to the scaffold, clad inblack velvet, and adorned with his gold chain of office, the stately oldseneschal of the Château, evidently in a towering passion.

“Now, mark my words, you miserable little bladder-o’-lard,” heroared at the Mayor (whose bald head certainly shone provokingly inthe morning sun), “see if I don’t take this out of your skin presently!”And he passed on to where the youth was still kneeling, apparentlyquite absorbed in the view.

“My lord,” he said firmly though respectfully, “your hair-brainedfolly really passes all bounds. Have you entirely lost your head?”

“Faith, nearly,” said the young man, rising and stretching himself.“Is that you, old Thibault? Ow, what a crick I’ve got in my neck! Butthat view of the valley was really delightful!”

“Did you come here simply to admire the view, my lord?”inquired Thibault severely.

“I came because my horse would come,” replied the youngSeigneur lightly: “that is, these gentlemen here were so pressing; theywould not hear of any refusal; and besides, they forgot to mention whatmy attendance was required in such a hurry for. And when I got here,Thibault, old fellow, and saw that divine creature—nay, a goddess,dea certé—so graceful, so modest, so anxious to acquit herself withcredit—— Well, you know my weakness; I never could bear todisappoint a woman. She had evidently set her heart on taking myhead; and as she had my heart already——”

“I think, my lord,” said Thibault, with some severity, “you hadbetter let me escort you back to the Château. This appears to be hardlya safe place for light-headed and susceptible persons!”

Jeanne, as was natural, had the last word. “Understand me, Mr.Mayor,” said she, “these proceedings are entirely irregular. I declineto recognise them, and when the quarter expires I shall claim the usualbonus!”

V

WHEN, an hour or two later, an invitation arrived—courteouslyworded but significantly backed by an escort of half-a-dozen tallarchers—for both Jeanne and the Mayor to attend at the Châteauwithout delay, Jeanne for her part received it with neither surprise norreluctance. She had felt it especially hard that the only two interviewsfate had granted her with the one man who had made some impressionon her heart should be hampered, the one by considerations ofpropriety, the other by the conflicting claims of her profession and itsduties. On this occasion, now, she would have an excellent chaperonin the Mayor; and, business being over for the day, they could meet andunbend on a common social footing. The Mayor was not at allsurprised either, considering what had gone before; but he wasexceedingly terrified, and sought some consolation from Jeanne as theyproceeded together to the Château. That young lady’s remarks,however, could hardly be called exactly comforting.

“I always thought you’d put your foot in it some day, Mayor,” shesaid. “You are so hopelessly wanting in system and method. Really,under the present happy-go-lucky police arrangements, I never knowwhom I may not be called upon to execute. Between you and my cousinEnguerrand, life is hardly safe in this town. And the worst of it is, thatwe other officials on the staff have to share in the discredit.”

“What do you think they’ll do to me, Jeanne?” whimpered theMayor, perspiring freely.

“Can’t say, I’m sure,” pursued the candid Jeanne. “Of course, ifit’s anything in the rack line of business, I shall have to superintend thearrangements, and then you can feel sure you’re in capable hands. Butprobably they’ll only fine you pretty smartly, give you a month or twoin the dungeons, and dismiss you from your post; and you will hardlygrudge any slight personal inconvenience resulting from anarrangement so much to the advantage of the town.”

This was hardly reassuring, but the Mayor’s official reprimand ofthe previous day still rankled in this unforgiving young person’s mind.

On their reaching the Château the Mayor was conducted aside, tobe dealt with by Thibault; and from the sounds of agonised protestationand lament which shortly reached Jeanne’s ears, it was evident that hewas having a mauvais quart d’heure. The young lady was shownrespectfully into a chamber apart, where she had hardly had time toadmire sufficiently the good taste of the furniture and the magnificenceof the tapestry with which the walls were hung, when the Seigneurentered and welcomed her with a cordial grace that put her entirely ather ease.

“Your punctuality puts me to shame, fair mistress,” he said,“considering how unwarrantably I kept you waiting this morning, andhow I tested your patience by my ignorance and awkwardness.”

He had changed his dress, and the lace round his neck was evenricher than before. Jeanne had always considered one of the chiefmarks of a well-bred man to be a fine disregard for the amount of hiswashing-bill; and then with what good taste he referred to recentevents—putting himself in the wrong, as a gentleman should!

“Indeed, my lord,” she replied modestly, “I was only too anxiousto hear from your own lips that you bore me no ill-will for the partforced on me by circumstances in our recent interview. Your lordshiphas sufficient critical good sense, I feel sure, to distinguish betweenthe woman and the official.”

“True, Jeanne,” he replied, drawing nearer; “and while I shrinkfrom expressing, in their fulness, all the feelings that the woman

inspires in me, I have no hesitation—for I know it will give youpleasure—in acquainting you with the entire artistic satisfaction withwhich I watched you at your task!”

“But, indeed,” said Jeanne, “you did not see me at my best. Infact, I can’t help wishing—it’s ridiculous, I know, because the thing ishardly practicable—but if I could only have carried my performancequite through, and put the last finishing touches to it, you would nothave been judging me now by the mere ‘blocking-in’ of what promisedto be a masterpiece!”

“Yes, I wish it could have been arranged somehow,” said theSeigneur, reflectively; “but perhaps it’s better as it is. I am content tolet the artist remain for the present on trust, if I may only take over,fully paid up, the woman I adore!”

Jeanne felt strangely weak. The official seemed oozing out at herfingers and toes, while the woman’s heart beat even moredistressingly.

“I have one little question to ask,” he murmured (his arm wasabout her now).

“Do I understand that you still claim your bonus?”Jeanne felt like water in his strong embrace; but she nerved

herself to answer, faintly but firmly, “Yes!”“Then so do I,” he replied, as his lips met hers.

· · · · · · ·Executions continued to occur in St. Radegonde; the

Radegundians being conservative and very human. But much of theinnocent enjoyment that formerly attended them departed after the fairChâtelaine had ceased to officiate. Enguerrand, on succeeding to thepost, wedded Clairette, she being (he was heard to say) a moresuitable match in mind and temper than others of whom he would nameno names. Rumour had it, that he found his match and something over;while as for temper—and mind (which she gave him in bits). But thedomestic trials of high-placed officials have a right to be held sacred.The profession, in spite of his best endeavours, languishednevertheless. Some said that the scaffold lacked its old attraction forcriminals of spirit; others, more unkindly, that the headsman was theinnocent cause, and that Enguerrand was less fatal in his new spherethan formerly, when practising in the criminal court as advocate for thedefence.

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