"Thou chatterer!" said her father, in a tone of displeasure, "I shall
take care that you are not so much alone with the old woman."

"It is true enough," interrupted the domestic, "Eustace is up in the
mountains with Roland, and has joined the Camisards, his wife and
children sit mourning in their desolate home; they are destitute of
food, and dread being arrested and, perhaps, condemned on his account."

"I believe," said the Lord of Beauvais, "that you have already relieved
them, my good Frantz, if not, do it now; give them what necessaries
they may require, but do it prudently, that we may not be called upon
to answer for it; for in this general affliction of want and confusion,
every thing is suspicious. A man may do as he pleases provided he
becomes not a tyrant, and places himself on a level with the
executioner."

"Like our Marshal," exclaimed the old man impetuously, "like our
Intendant; like the lords there in Nismes, who in the name of God
sacrifice their brethren. I have sent some relief to these poor people
already, and will provide them with more; it is only a drop of water in
the sea, but still in this distress it will comfort a few poor
creatures."

The servant retired, and as her father turned a mournful glance towards
the mountains, his little daughter approached him smilingly, kissed his
hand, and said: "Papa, pray let not you and Frantz became wicked and
rebels, for then brother Edmond and I would go to heaven quite alone,
and I should not like that; I can never agree with Edmond, he is so
terribly pious, you are much better, though your faith may not be of
the best kind."

"You say truly, _terribly_ pious;" said the old man, "Oh heaven, when
will it please thee to deliver us from these afflictions?"

"There comes Edmond along the garden," said the child, "it will be
better not to say anything to him about the wicked Eustace, for we
shall have noise and disputes again; he does not like such things at
all."

Edmond entered, bowed, put his gun in the corner, and laid aside his
pouch. A large dog came bounding up to the little girl, who played with
him, and held up some pieces of broken bread.

"Where have you been this morning, my son?" inquired his father.

"At the Intendant's, at the Lord of Basville's," replied Edmond without
raising his eyes. "Yonder in Alais, where he will stop for a few days
in consequence of the trial of the rebels. He commends himself to you,
but he is rather surp