had not disturbed Monsieur the Preceptor. He had
prayed in the chateau--he prayed in the prison. He had often spoken in
the chateau of the softening and comforting influences of communion
with the lower animals and with nature, and in the uncertainty of
imprisonment he had tamed a toad. "None of these things had moved
him," and, in a storm of grief and admiration, Monsieur the Viscount
bewailed the memory of his tutor.

"If he had only lived to teach me!"

But he was dead, and there was nothing for Monsieur the Viscount but
to make the most of his example. This was not so easy to follow as he
imagined. Things seemed to be different with him to what they had
been with Monsieur the Preceptor. He had no lofty meditations, no
ardent prayers, and calm and peace seemed more distant than ever.
Monsieur the Viscount met, in short, with all those difficulties that
the soul must meet with, which, in a moment of enthusiasm, has
resolved upon a higher and a better way of life, and in moments of
depression is perpetually tempted to forego that resolution. His
prison life was, however, a pretty severe discipline, and he held on
with struggles and prayers; and so, little by little, and day by day,
as the time of his imprisonment went by, the consolations of religion
became a daily strength against the fretfulness of imperious temper,
the sickness of hope deferred, and the dark suggestions of despair.

The term of his imprisonment was a long one. Many prisoners came and
went within the walls of the Abbaye, but Monsieur the Viscount still
remained in his cell; indeed, he would have gained little by leaving
it if he could have done so, as he would almost certainly have been
retaken. As it was, Antoine on more than one occasion concealed him
behind the bundles of firewood, and once or twice he narrowly escaped
detection by less friendly officials. There were times when the
guillotine seemed to him almost better than this long suspense: but
while other heads passed to the block, his remained on his shoulders;
and so weeks and even months went by. And during all this time,
sleeping or waking, whenever he lay down upon his pallet, the toad
crept up on to the stone, and kept watch over him with lustrous eyes.

Monsieur the Viscount hardly acknowledged to himself the affection
with which he came to regard this ugly and despicable animal. The
greater part of his regard for it he believed to be due to its
connection with his tutor, and the