, while he stood facing her, uneasy and not knowing what
to say, and he merely murmured: "Come, have courage."

She got up.

"I will," she said, and wiping her eyes, she began to walk again with
the jerky steps of an old woman.

Rather farther on, the road passed under a clump of trees, which hid a
few houses, and they could distinguish the vibrating and regular blows
of a blacksmith's hammer on the anvil; and soon they saw a cart drawn
upon the right in front of a low cottage, and two men shoeing a horse
under a shed.

Monsieur d'Apreval went up to them.

"Where is Pierre Benedict's farm?" he asked.

"Take the road on the left, close to the public house, and then go
straight on; it is the third house past Poret's. There is a small
spruce-fir close to the gate; you cannot make a mistake."

They turned to the left; she was walking very slowly now; her legs
threatened to give way, and her heart was beating so violently that she
felt as if she should be suffocated, while at every step she murmured,
as if in prayer:

"Oh! good heavens! good heavens!"

Monsieur d'Apreval, who was also nervous and rather pale, said to her
somewhat gruffly:

"If you cannot manage to command your feelings better, you will betray
yourself immediately. Do try and restrain yourself."

"How can I?" she replied. "My child! When I think that I am going to see
my child!"

They were going along one of those narrow country lanes between
farmyards, that are buried beneath a double row of beech trees, by the
sides of the ditches, and suddenly they found themselves in front of a
gate, over which there hung a young spruce-fir.

"This is it," he said.

She stopped suddenly and looked about her. The courtyard, which was
planted with apple-trees, was large and extended as far as the small,
thatched dwelling-house. Opposite to it, were the stable, the barn, the
cow-house and the poultry-house, while the gig, wagon and the manure
cart were under a slated outhouse. Four calves were grazing under the
shade of the trees, and black hens were wandering all about the
enclosure.

All was perfectly still; the house door was open, but nobody was to be
seen, and so they went in, when immediately a large, black dog came out
of a barrel that was standing under a pear tree, and began to bark
furiously.

There were four bee-hives on boards against the wall of the house.

Monsieur d'Apreval stood outside and called out:

"Is anybody at home?"

Then a