at she had dared, done, and left undone for the
sake of her little daughter, good Noemi Laurent wept, and agreed with
him that a special providence must have directed them to his care, and
that some good work must await one who had been carried through so much.
His project was to remain here for a short time, to visit the flock who
had lost their pastor on the day of the massacre, and to recruit his own
strength; for he, too, had suffered severely from the long travelling,
and the exposure during many nights, especially since all that was warm
and sheltered had been devoted to Eustacie. And after this he proposed
to go to La Rochelle, and make inquiries for a trusty messenger
who could be sent to England to seek out the family of the Baron de
Ribaumont, or, mayhap, a sufficient escort with whom the lady could
travel; though he had nearly made up his mind that he would not
relinquish the care of her until he had safely delivered her to her
husband's mother.

Health and life were very vigorous in Eustacie; and though at first she
had been completely worn out, a few days of comfort, entire rest, and
good nursing restored her. Noemi dressed her much like herself, in a
black gown, prim little white starched ruff, and white cap,--a thorough
Calvinist dress, and befitting a minister's widow. Eustacie winced a
little at hearing of the character that had been fastened upon her;
she disliked for her child, still more than for herself, to take this
_bourgeois_ name of Gardon; but there was no help for it, since, though
he chief personages of the town were Huguenot, there could be no safety
for her if the report were once allowed to arise that the Baronne de
Ribaumont had taken refuge there.

It was best that she should be as little noticed as possible; nor,
indeed, had good Noemi many visitors. The sad and sorrowful woman had
always shut herself up with her Bible and her meditations, and sought no
sympathy from her neighbours, nor encourage gossip in her shop. In the
first days, when purchasers lingered to ask if it were true that Maitre
Gardon had brought his daughter-in-law and grandchild, her stern-faced,
almost grim answer, that '_la pauvre_ was ill at ease,' silenced them,
and forced them to carry off their curiosity unsatisfied; but it became
less easy to arrange when Eustacie herself was on foot again--refreshed,
active, and with an irrepressible spring of energy and eagerness that
could hardly be caged down in the Widow L