wife, and afterwards he sent over to
order some more. Then, after a time, he sent secretly to my father to
ask him if Maitre Gardon was there; for there was a great outcry about
the lemon cakes, and the Duke of Alencon's army were coming to demand
his daughter-in-law; because it seems she was a great lady, and the only
person who could make the cakes.

'Agathe!' exclaimed the Prioress.

'I understand,' said Berenger. 'The Cure of Nissard told me that she was
traced through cakes, the secret of which was only known at Bellaise.

'That might be,' said Mere Monique. 'I remember there was something of
pride in the cakes of Bellaise, though I always tried to know nothing of
them.

'Well, little one, continue,' entreated Berenger. 'You are giving me
life and hope.

'I heard my father and mother talk about it,' said Agathe, gaining
courage. 'He said he knew nothing of great people, and would give nobody
up to the Catholics, but as to Maitre Isaac, he should let him know that
the Catholic army were coming, and that it would be the better for us
if we had no pastor within our walls; and that there was a cry that his
daughter's lemon cakes were made by the lady that was lost.

'And they escaped! Ah! would that I could thank the good man!

'Surely yes, sir, I never saw them again. Maitre Tressan the elder
prayed with us. And when the cruel soldiers came and demanded the lady
and Maitre Isaac, and all obstinate Calvinists, our mayor and my father
and the rest made answer that they had no knowledge of the lady, and did
not know where Maitre Gardon was; and as to Huguenots, we were all one
as obstinate as the other, but that we would pay any fine within our
means so they would spare our lives. Then the man in the fine coat said,
it was the lady they wanted, not the fine; and a great deal he said
besides, I know not what but my father said, 'It is our life's blood
that they want,' and he put on his breastplate and kissed us all, and
went away. Then came horrible noises and firing of cannon, and the
neighbours ran in and said that the enemy were battering down the old
crumbly bit of wall where the monastery was burnt; and just then our man
Joseph ran back all pale, and staring, to tell us my father was lying
badly hurt in the street. My mother hurried out, and locked the door to
keep us from following.

The poor child broke down in tears, and her sister went on. 'Oh, we were
so frightened--such frightful sounds came close, and