tile factory that
used to look so empty, melancholy, ill-kept, and useless, is now in full
work, astir with life, and well stocked with everything required. There
is a good stock of wood here, and all the raw material for the season's
work: for, as you know, tiles can only be made during a few months in
the year, between June and September. Is it not a pleasure to see all
this activity? My tile-maker has done his share of the work in every
building going, always busy--'the devourer,' they call him in these
parts."

Benassis had scarcely finished speaking when the wicket gate which
gave entrance to the garden opened, and a nicely-dressed young woman
appeared. She came forward as quickly as her condition allowed, though
the two horsemen hastened towards her. Her attire somewhat recalled her
former quality of ladies' maid, for she wore a pretty cap, a pink
dress, a silk apron, and white stockings. Mme. Vigneau in short, was
a nice-looking woman, sufficiently plump, and if she was somewhat
sunburned, her natural complexion must have been very fair. There were
a few lines still left on her forehead, traced there by the troubles
of past days, but she had a bright and winsome face. She spoke in a
persuasive voice, as she saw that the doctor came no further, "Will
you not do me the honor of coming inside and resting for a moment, M.
Benassis?"

"Certainly we will. Come this way, captain."

"The gentleman must be very hot! Will you take a little milk or some
wine? M. Benassis, please try a little of the wine that my husband has
been so kind as to buy for my confinement. You will tell me if it is
good."

"You have a good man for your husband."

"Yes, sir," she turned and spoke in quiet tones, "I am very well off."

"We will not take anything, Mme. Vigneau; I only came round this way to
see that nothing troublesome had happened."

"Nothing," she said. "I was busy out in the garden, as you saw, turning
the soil over for the sake of something to do."

Then the two old mothers came out to speak to Benassis, and the young
wagoner planted himself in the middle of the yard, in a spot from whence
he could have a good view of the doctor.

"Let us see, let me have your hand," said Benassis, addressing Mme.
Vigneau; and as he carefully felt her pulse, he stood in silence,
absorbed in thought. The three women, meanwhile, scrutinized the
commandant with the undisguised curiosity that country people do not
scruple to express.

"N