ep, dreamless
sleep which comes to any one as strong as I was, after unusual physical
exertion. Once or twice a vague impression forced itself upon me that
Minima was talking a great deal in her dreams. It was the clang of the
bell for matins which fully roused me at last, but it was a minute or
two before I could make out where I was. Through the uncurtained window,
high in the opposite wall, I could see a dim, pallid moon sinking slowly
into the west. The thick beams of the cross were strongly delineated
against its pale light. For a moment I fancied that Minima and I had
passed the night under the shelter of the solitary image, which we had
left alone in the dark and rainy evening. I knew better immediately, and
lay still, listening to the tramp of the wooden _sabots_ hurrying past
the door into the church-porch. Then Minima began to talk.

"How funny that is!" she said, "there the boys run, and I can't catch
one of them. Father, Temple Secundus is pulling faces at me, and all the
boys are laughing." "Well! it doesn't matter, does it? Only we are so
poor, Aunt Nelly and all. We're so poor--so poor--so poor!"

Her voice fell into a murmur too low for me to hear what she was saying,
though she went on talking rapidly, and laughing and sobbing at times. I
called to her, but she did not answer.

What could ail the child? I went to her, and took her hands in
mine--burning little hands. I said, "Minima! and she turned to me with
a caressing gesture, raising her hot fingers to stroke my face.

"Yes, Aunt Nelly. How poor we are, you and me! I am so tired, and the
prince never comes!"

There was hardly room for me in the narrow bed, but I managed to lie
down beside her, and took her into my arms to soothe her. She rested
there quietly enough; but her head was wandering, and all her whispered
chatter was about the boys, and the dominie, her father, and the happy
days at home in the school in Epping Forest. As soon as it was light I
dressed myself in haste, and opened my door to see if I could find any
one to send to Monsieur Laurentie.

The first person I saw was himself, coming in my direction. I had not
fairly looked at him before, for I had seen him only by twilight and
firelight. His cassock was old and threadbare, and his hat brown. His
hair fell in rather long locks below his hat, and was beautifully white.
His face was healthy-looking, like that of a man who lived much
out-of-doors, and his clear, quick eyes shone