trembled
from head to foot. Amazed to the last degree by this extraordinary
reception of his remonstrance, Thomas Siadoux remembered, at the same
time, that he had engaged to bring Monsieur Chaubard back with him; and
he determined to finish his civil speech as if nothing had happened.

"We are all of opinion," he resumed, "that the weather has kept my
father on the road. But that is no reason, sir, why the supper should
be wasted, or why you should not make one of us, as you promised. Here
is a good warm cloak--"

"I can't come," said the priest "I'm ill; I'm in bad spirits; I'm not
fit to go out." He sighed bitterly, and hid his face in his hands.

"Don't say that, sir," persisted Thomas. "If you are out of spirits,
let us try to cheer you. And you, in your turn, will enliven us. They
are all waiting for you at home. Don't refuse, sir," pleaded the young
man, "or we shall think we have offended you in some way. You have
always been a good friend to our family--"

Monsieur Chaubard again rose from his chair, with a second change of
manner, as extraordinary and as perplexing as the first. His eyes
moistened as if the tears were rising in them; he took the hand of
Thomas Siadoux, and pressed it long and warmly in his own. There was a
curious mixed expression of pity and fear in the look which he now
fixed on the young man.

"Of all the days in the year," he said, very earnestly, "don't doubt my
friendship to-day. Ill as I am, I will make one of the supper party,
for your sake--"

"And for my father's sake?" added Thomas, persuasively.

"Let us go to the supper," said the priest.

Thomas Siadoux wrapped the cloak round him, and they left the house.

Every one at the table noticed the change in Monsieur Chaubard. He
accounted for it by declaring, confusedly, that he was suffering from
nervous illness; and then added that he would do his best,
notwithstanding, to promote the social enjoyment of the evening. His
talk was fragmentary, and his cheerfulness was sadly forced; but he
contrived, with these drawbacks, to take his part in the
conversation--except in the case when it happened to turn on the absent
master of the house. Whenever the name of Saturnin Siadoux was
mentioned---either by the neighbors, who politely regretted that he was
not present, or by the family, who naturally talked about the
resting-place which he might have chosen for the night--Monsieur
Chaubard either relapsed into blank s