ee
who was speaking. I lifted the hand Richard was not holding, and
beckoned Jean to me.

"Jean," I said, in a low tone still, "this man is my enemy. Monsieur le
Cure knows all about him; but he is not here. You must protect me."

"Certainly, madame," he replied, his eyes more roundly open than
ordinarily.--"Monsieur, have the goodness to release madame."

"She is my wife," retorted Richard Foster.

"I have told all to Monsieur le Cure," I said.

"_Bon!_" ejaculated Jean. Monsieur le Cure is gone to England; it is
necessary to wait till his return, Monsieur Englishman."

"Fool!" said Richard in a passion, "she is my wife, I tell you."

"_Bon!_" he replied phlegmatically, "but it is my affair to protect
madame. There is no resource but to wait till Monsieur le Cure returns
from his voyage. If madame does not say, 'This is my husband,' how can I
believe you? She says, 'He is my enemy.' I cannot confide madame to a
stranger."

"I will not leave her," he exclaimed with an oath, spoken in English,
which Jean could not understand.

"Good! very good! Pardon, monsieur," responded Jean, laying his iron
fingers upon the hand that held me, and loosening its grip as easily as
if it had been the hand of a child.--"_Voila_! madame, you are free.
Leave Monsieur the Englishman to me, and go away into the house, if you
please."

I did not wait to hear any further altercation, but fled as quickly as I
could into the presbytery. Up into my own chamber I ran, drew a heavy
chest against the door, and fell down trembling and nerveless upon the
floor beside it.

But there was no time to lose in womanish terrors; my difficulty and
danger were too great. The cure was gone, and would be away at least a
fortnight. How did I know what French law might do with me, in that
time? I dragged myself to the window, and, with my face just above the
sill, looked down the street, to see if my husband were in sight. He was
nowhere to be seen, but loitering at one of the doors was the
letter-carrier, whose daily work it was to meet the afternoon omnibus
returning from Noireau to Granville. Why should I not write to Tardif?
He had promised to come to my help whenever and wherever I might summon
him. I ran down to Mademoiselle Therese for the materials for a letter,
and in a few minutes it was written, and on the way to Sark.

I was still watching intently from my own casement, when I saw Richard
Foster come round the corner of the church, and tu