Monsieur le Cure, and all the company," said Jean.

"And you also, my child," continued Monsieur Laurentie, when Jean was
gone, "you have great need of rest. So has this baby, who is very
sleepy."

"I am not sleepy," protested Minima, "and I am not a baby."

"You are a baby," said the cure, laughing, "to make such rejoicing over
an old papa like me. But go now, my children. There is no danger for
you. Sleep well and have pleasant dreams."

I slept well, but I had no pleasant dreams, for I did not dream at all.
The cure's return, and his presence under the same roof, gave me such a
sense of security as was favorable to profound, unbroken slumber. When
the chirping of the birds awoke me in the morning, I could not at first
believe that the events of the day before were not themselves a dream.
The bell rang for matins at five o'clock now, to give the laborers the
cool of the morning for their work in the fields, after they were over.
I could not sleep again, for the coming hours must be full of suspense
and agitation to me. So at the first toll of the deep-toned bell, I
dressed myself, and went out into the dewy freshness of the new day.

Matins were ended, and the villagers were scattered about their farms
and households, when I noticed Pierre loitering stealthily about the
presbytery, as if anxious not to be seen. He made me a sign as soon as
he caught my eye, to follow him out of sight, round the corner of the
church. It was a mysterious sign, and I obeyed it quickly.

"I know a secret, madame," he said, in a troubled tone, and with an
apprehensive air--"that monsieur who came yesterday has not left the
valley. My father bade me stay in the church, at my work; but I could
not, madame, I could not. Not possible, you know. I wished to see your
enemy again. I shall have to confess it to Monsieur le Cure, and he will
give me a penance, perhaps a very great penance. But it was not possible
to rest tranquil, not at all. I followed monsieur, your enemy, _a la
derobee_. He did not go far away."

"But where is he, then?" I asked, looking down the street, with a
thrill of fear.

"Madame," whispered Pierre, "he is a stranger to this place, and the
people would not receive him into their houses--not one of them. My
father only said, 'He is an enemy to our dear English madame,' and all
the women turned the back upon him. I stole after him, you know, behind
the trees and the hedges. He marched very slowly, like a man very wea