be released from my stiff position, and hardly availing myself
of his proffered help. He did not conduct us through the open door, but
led us round the angle of the presbytery to a small outhouse, opening on
to the court, and with no other entrance. It was a building lying
between the porch and belfry of the church and his own dwelling place.
But it looked comfortable and inviting. A fire had been hastily kindled
on an open hearth, and a heap of wood lay beside it. A table stood close
by, in the light and warmth, on which were steaming two basins of soup,
and an omelette fresh from the frying-pan; with fruit and wine for a
second course. Two beds were in this room: one with hangings over the
head, and a large, tall cross at the foot-board; the other a low, narrow
pallet, lying along the foot of it. A crucifix hung upon the wall, and
the wood-work of the high window also formed a cross. It seemed a
strange goal to reach after our day's wanderings.

Monsieur Laurentie put the lamp down on the table, and drew the logs of
wood together on the hearth. He was an old man, as I then thought, over
sixty. He looked round upon us with a benevolent smile.

"Madame," he said, "our hospitality is rude and simple, but you are very
welcome guests. My sister is desolated that she must leave you to my
cares. But if there be any thing you have need of, tell me, I pray you."

"There is nothing, monsieur," I answered; "you are too good to us, too
good."

"No, no, madame," he said, "be content. To-morrow I will send you to
Granville under the charge of my good Jean. Sleep well, my children, and
fear nothing. The good God will protect you."

He closed the door after him as he spoke, but opened it again to call my
attention to a thick wooden bar, with which I might fasten it inside if
I chose; and to tell me not to alarm myself when I heard the bell
overhead toll for matins, at half-past five in the morning. I listened
to his receding footsteps, and then turned eagerly to the food, which I
began to want greatly.

But Minima had thrown herself upon the low pallet-bed, and I could not
persuade her to swallow more than a few spoonfuls of soup. I toot off
her damp clothes, and laid her down comfortably to rest. Her eyes were
dull and heavy, and she said her head was aching; but she looked up at
me with a faint smile.

"I told you how nice it would be to be in bed," she whispered.

"It was not long before I was also sleeping soundly the de