miling quietly at Minima's
gambols of delight, which ended in her sitting down on a _tabouret_ at
his feet. Jean stood just within the door, his hands behind his back,
holding his white cotton cap in them: he had been making his report of
the day's events. Monsieur held out his hand to me, and I ran to him,
caught it in both of mine, bent down my face upon it, and burst into a
passion of weeping, in spite of myself.

"Come, come, madame!" he said, his own voice faltering a little, "I am
here, my child; behold me! There is no place for fear now. I am king in
Ville-en-bois.--Is it not so, my good Jean?"

"Monsieur le Cure, you are emperor," replied Jean.

"If that is the case," he continued, "madame is perfectly secure in my
castle. You do not ask me what brings me back again so soon. But I will
tell you, madame. At Noireau, the proprietor of the omnibus to Granville
told me that an Englishman had gone that morning to visit my little
parish. Good! We do not have that honor every day. I ask him to have the
goodness to tell me the Englishman's name. It is written in the book at
the bureau. Monsieur Fostere. I remember that name well, very well. That
is the name of the husband of my little English daughter. Fostere! I see
in a moment it will not do to proceed, on my voyage. But I find that my
good Jacques has taken on the _char-a-banc_ a league or two beyond
Noireau, and I am compelled to await his return. There is the reason
that I return so late."

"O monsieur!" I exclaimed, "how good you are--"

"Pardon, madame," he interrupted, "let me hear the end of Jean's
history."

Jean continued his report in his usual phlegmatic tone, and concluded
with the assurance that he had seen the Englishman safe out of the
village, and returning by the road he came.

"I could have wished," said the cure, regretfully, "that we might have
shown him some hospitality in Ville-en-bois; but you did what was very
good, Jean. Yet we did not encounter any stranger along the route."

"Not possible, monsieur," replied Jean; "it was four o'clock when he
returned on his steps, and it is now after nine. He would pass the
Calvary before six. After that, Monsieur le Cure, he might take any
route which pleased him."

"That is true, Jean," he said, mildly; "you have done well. You may go
now. Where is Monsieur the Vicaire?"

"He sleeps, monsieur, in the guest's chamber, as usual."

"_Bien_! Good-evening, Jean, and a good-night."

"Good-night,