looking at
him with her soft, dark eyes; Suzanne approving of his conduct and saying
to him: "You are a man of courage. Let us go away together; cast your frock
into the ditch."

And he wrote three letters: one to his uncle, the other to the Comtesse,
and the third to the Bishop, entreating them to excuse him, and telling
them that he did not feel qualified to perform his ministry in a large
town. He implored Monseigneur to leave him at Althausen and to think no
more about him.

But the night brings counsel. And when he woke up the next morning and saw
his three letters on the table, he thought that he could not do a more
awkward thing.

He threw them in the fire, dressed and went out. The idea came to him of
going to see the parish which was destined for him. He followed the
streets, drawn in a straight line, of that too regular city, and when he
arrived at the corner of the _Rue des Carmes_, he heard his name
pronounced. Be turned round and saw the landlord of the inn where he was
accustomed to stay, when he came to Nancy.

--What, you are passing before my door without coming in, Monsieur le Cure;
I was expecting you, however. I had prepared your room.

--You were expecting me, Monsieur Patin? And who told you that I was here?

--Who told me that? It was a young person who is very pretty, upon my word.
She came to ask for you yesterday evening, and we expected you up to ten
o'clock.

--Dark? said Marcel much disturbed.

--No, fair, the prettiest fair complexion which I have ever seen.

Marcel remembered immediately the little mountebank, whom he had altogether
forgotten, and to whom he had given the address of Monsieur Patin's hotel,
where he had expected to stay.

--It is a young girl who is recommended to me, he said; I regret that I did
not see her.

--You are not coming in?

--No, for perhaps I am going to set out again for Althausen.

--For Althausen. That is impossible to-day. I have just seen the
_diligence_ go by. Come, you will sleep once more at my house, Monsieur
Marcel; your room is quite ready, and my wife, who has a fancy for you,
will not let you go away. Stay, here she comes; she has recognized your
voice.

The little Madame Patin, plump, brown, active and pretty, hastened up,
indeed, and compelled Marcel to come in, almost in spite of himself.

--You shall remain, you shall remain! she said to him, relieving him of his
hat.

--No, he answered smiling, I shall not remain, and I w