Her visits became more seldom, and the ill temper of her husband increased.
One night, Marie pursued her devious way to the mountains to furnish Jack with the accustomed supplies.

He snatched form her hand the liquor, and took a deep draught.

The poison did its work.

He became excited, and quarreled with his wife; and, roused to fury by her reproaches, struck her with his hand, seized her by the shoulder and thrust her from the hut, tumbling her over the ledge.

Marie rose, groaning with pain, being severely bruised.