even understand
their own position. They were like children whom mothers have always
cared for, deserted by their maternal providence. And as a child cries,
they betook themselves to prayer. Now, in the presence of imminent
danger, they were mute and passive, knowing no defence save Christian
resignation.

The man at the door, taking silence for consent, presented himself, and
the women shuddered. This was the prowler that had been making inquiries
about them for some time past. But they looked at him with frightened
curiosity, much as shy children stare silently at a stranger; and
neither of them moved.

The newcomer was a tall, burly man. Nothing in his behavior, bearing,
or expression suggested malignity as, following the example set by the
nuns, he stood motionless, while his eyes traveled round the room.

Two straw mats laid upon planks did duty as beds. On the one table,
placed in the middle of the room, stood a brass candlestick, several
plates, three knives, and a round loaf. A small fire burned in the
grate. A few bits of wood in a heap in a corner bore further witness
to the poverty of the recluses. You had only to look at the coating of
paint on the walls to discover the bad condition of the roof, and the
ceiling was a perfect network of brown stains made by rain-water. A
relic, saved no doubt from the wreck of the Abbaye de Chelles, stood
like an ornament on the chimney-piece. Three chairs, two boxes, and a
rickety chest of drawers completed the list of the furniture, but a door
beside the fireplace suggested an inner room beyond.

The brief inventory was soon made by the personage introduced into
their midst under such terrible auspices. It was with a compassionate
expression that he turned to the two women; he looked benevolently at
them, and seemed, at least, as much embarrassed as they. But the
strange silence did not last long, for presently the stranger began to
understand. He saw how inexperienced, how helpless (mentally speaking),
the two poor creatures were, and he tried to speak gently.

"I am far from coming as an enemy, citoyennes----" he began. Then he
suddenly broke off and went on, "Sisters, if anything should happen to
you, believe me, I shall have no share in it. I have come to ask a favor
of you."

Still the women were silent.

"If I am annoying you--if--if I am intruding, speak freely, and I will
go; but you must understand that I am entirely at your service; that if
I can do anyt