to disturb his sleep and his vigils. He drove
them away; they came back again; and he murmured from time to time,
smiling at himself:

"Here I am, like St. Anthony."

Having this special morning had several of these visions, the desire
suddenly came into his breast to bathe in the Brindille in order to
refresh himself and cool his blood.

He knew of a large deep pool, a little farther down, where the people of
the neighborhood came sometimes to take a dip in summer. He went there.

Thick willow trees hid this clear body of water where the current rested
and went to sleep for a while before starting on its way again. Renardet,
as he appeared, thought he heard a light sound, a faint plashing which
was not that of the stream on the banks. He softly put aside the leaves
and looked. A little girl, quite naked in the transparent water, was
beating the water with both hands, dancing about in it and dipping
herself with pretty movements. She was not a child nor was she yet a
woman. She was plump and developed, while preserving an air of youthful
precocity, as of one who had grown rapidly. He no longer moved, overcome
with surprise, with desire, holding his breath with a strange, poignant
emotion. He remained there, his heart beating as if one of his sensuous
dreams had just been realized, as if an impure fairy had conjured up
before him this young creature, this little rustic Venus, rising from the
eddies of the stream as the real Venus rose from the waves of the sea.

Suddenly the little girl came out of the water, and, without seeing him,
came over to where he stood, looking for her clothes in order to dress
herself. As she approached gingerly, on account of the sharp-pointed
stones, he felt himself pushed toward her by an irresistible force, by a
bestial transport of passion, which stirred his flesh, bewildered his
mind and made him tremble from head to foot.

She remained standing some seconds behind the willow tree which concealed
him from view. Then, losing his reason entirely, he pushed aside the
branches, rushed on her and seized her in his arms. She fell, too
terrified to offer any resistance, too terror-stricken to cry out. He
seemed possessed, not understanding what he was doing.

He woke from his crime as one wakes from a nightmare. The child burst out
weeping.

"Hold your tongue! Hold your tongue!" he said. "I'll give you money."

But she did not hear him and went on sobbing.

"Come now, hold your tongu