barked the whole night long,
and at daybreak I saw the mare under my shed. She is there now. Come
along with me, and if you recognize her, you may take her."

When Germain had given a description of the gray, and felt convinced
that it was really she, he started back to find his saddle. Little Marie
offered to take his child to Ormeaux, whither he might go to get him
after he had introduced himself at Fourche.

"He is rather dirty after the night that we have passed," said she. "I
will brush his clothes, wash his pretty face, and comb his hair, and
when he looks neat and clean, you can present him to your new family."

"Who told you that I wish to go to Fourche?" answered Germain,
petulantly. "Perhaps I shall not go."

"But truly, Germain, it is your duty to go there. You will go there,"
replied the girl.

"You seem very anxious to have me married off, so that you may be quite
sure that I shall not trouble you again?"

"Germain, you must not think of that any more. It is an idea which came
to you in the night, because this unfortunate mishap took away your
spirits. But now you must come to your senses. I promise you to forget
everything that you said to me, and not to breathe it to a soul."

"Oh, say what you wish. It is not my custom to deny what I have spoken.
What I told you was true and honest, and I shall not blush for it before
anybody."

"Yes, but if your wife were to know that just before you came you were
thinking of another woman, it would prejudice her against you. So take
care how you speak now. Don't look at me before everybody with such a
rapt expression. Think of Father Maurice, who relies on your obedience,
and who would be enraged at me if I were to turn you from his will.
Good-by, Germain. I take Petit-Pierre in order to force you to go to
Fourche. He is a pledge which I keep on your behalf."

"So you want to go with her?" said the husbandman to his son, seeing
that the boy had clasped Marie's hands and was following her resolutely.

"Yes, father," answered the child, who had heard the conversation and
understood after his own fashion the words spoken so unguardedly before
him. "I am going away with my dearest little Marie. You shall come to
find me when you have done marrying, but I wish Marie to be my little
mother."

"You see how much he wishes it," said Germain to the girl. "Listen to
me, Petit-Pierre," he added. "I wish her to be your mother and to stay
with you always. It is she who