t to a window and dragged it open; the moonlight
flowed in, and with it a soft rough blast that blew the candles about
wildly and made smoke and flames fly out from the fire. Anne hastily,
with some difficulty, closed the window and fastened it again.

She had not waited very long when slow heavy feet came tramping through
the stone court, the house door opened and shut with a clang, and
Monsieur Urbain came into the room. As he took Anne's hand and kissed
it in the old pretty fashion, she looked anxiously into his face, a very
sad face in these days. Urbain's philosophy had been hardly tried of
late. And his wife was not mistaken in fancying that something new had
happened that day to deepen the hollows round his eyes, the lines on his
rugged brow. She would not, even dared not ask, for reasons of her own.
It might well be that his grief and her joy should run on the same
lines. Anne had been praying for something; she was half afraid, though
she fully expected, to hear that her prayer was granted.

Urbain sat down by the fire, and stretched out his feet and hands to the
blaze.

"Where are the children?" he said.

Anne smiled very sweetly. "Out somewhere in the moonlight. Ange thinks
there is nothing for Helene like fresh air."

"From her looks, he is right."

"It is not only the fresh air--" Anne broke off, then went on again.
"Well, my friend, you went to Sonnay--you took the child to the
convent?"

"Yes--she will be very safe there for a time--the reverend mothers
received her excellently. I do not care for convents, as you know, but I
am not sure that Henriette, even at this early age, has not found her
vocation. Till to-day, I do not think I had seen the child smile
since--"

"Ah, yes--" Anne murmured something under her breath. "Did you see
Monsieur de Mauves?"

"For a few minutes. I talked so long with the Prioress that it was late
before I reached the Prefecture. He had been to Paris. He explained all
that tissue of rascality to the Emperor, so that no blame might fall on
the wrong shoulders. Luckily His Majesty disliked Ratoneau; the man
smoked and swore too much to please him."

"But after all," Anne said thoughtfully, "the Prefect drew up those
papers himself, if he did not send them. And you, Urbain--"

He waved his hand sadly, impatiently. "No more of me, I am punished
enough," he said. "I thought I was acting for everybody's good--but
alas!--Yes, De Mauves drew up the papers, and then repent