a robber, or
incendiary, or something of the sort. The Abbe may take a stand, and the
Cure's position will be difficult. What is more, my brother has friends
here, fanatics like himself. He has been writing to them. They are men
capable of doing unpleasant things--the Abbe certainly is. It is fair to
warn the tailor. Shall I leave it to you? Do not frighten him. But there
is no doubt he should be warned--fair play, fair play! I hear nothing
but good of him from those whose opinions I value. But, you see, every
man's history in this parish and in every parish of the province is
known. This man, for us, has no history. The Cure even admits there are
some grounds for calling him an infidel, but, as you know, he would keep
the man here, not drive him out from among us. I have not told the Cure
about the Abbe yet. I wished first to talk with you. The Abbe may come
at any moment. I have been away, and only find his letters to-day."

"You wish me to tell Monsieur?" interrupted Rosalie, unable to hold
silence any longer. More than once during the Seigneur's disclosure she
had felt that she must cry out and fiercely repel the base insinuations
against the man she loved.

"You would do it with discretion. You are friendly with him, are you
not?--you talk with him now and then?"

She inclined her head. "Very well, Monsieur. I will go to Vadrome
Mountain to-morrow," she said quietly. Anger, apprehension, indignation,
possessed her, but she held herself firmly. The Seigneur was doing a
friendly thing; and, in any case, she could have no quarrel with him.
There was danger to the man she loved, however, and every faculty was
alive.

"That's right. He shall have his chance to evade the Abbe if he wishes,"
answered M. Rossignol.

There was silence for a moment, in which she was scarcely conscious of
his presence; then he leaned over the counter towards her, and spoke in
a low voice.

"What I said the other day I meant. I do not change my mind--I am too
old for that. Yet I'm young enough to know that you may change yours."

"I cannot change, Monsieur," she said tremblingly.

"But you will change. I knew your mother well, I know how anxious she
was for your future. I told her once that I should keep an eye on you
always. Her father was my father's good friend. I knew you when you were
in the cradle--a little brown-haired babe. I watched you till you went
to the convent. I saw you come back to take up the duties which your
mother