no doubt suspected something, for he looked at
me somewhat uneasily."

"And when does M. Hardy return?" asked the hunchback.

"To-morrow, or the day after. Now, my good sister, advise me. It is
evident that this young lady loves M. Hardy. She is probably married, for
she looked so embarrassed when she spoke to me, and she uttered a cry of
terror on learning that she was followed. What shall I do? I wished to
ask advice of Father Simon, but he is so very strict in such matters--and
then a love affair, at his age!--while you are so delicate and sensible,
my good sister, that you will understand it all."

The girl started, and smiled bitterly; Agricola did not perceive it, and
thus continued: "So I said to myself, 'There is only Mother Bunch, who
can give me good advice.' Suppose M. Hardy returns to-morrow, shall I
tell him what has passed or not?"

"Wait a moment," cried the other, suddenly interrupting Agricola, and
appearing to recollect something; "when I went to St. Mary's Convent, to
ask for work of the superior, she proposed that I should be employed by
the day, in a house in which I was to watch or, in other words, to act as
a spy--"

"What a wretch!"

"And do you know," said the girl, "with whom I was to begin this odious
trade? Why, with a Madame de-Fremont, or de Bremont, I do not remember
which, a very religious woman, whose daughter, a young married lady,
received visits a great deal too frequent (according to the superior)
from a certain manufacturer."

"What do you say?" cried Agricola. "This manufacturer must be--"

"M. Hardy. I had too many reasons to remember that name, when it was
pronounced by the superior. Since that day, so many other events have
taken place, that I had almost forgotten the circumstance. But it is
probable that this young lady is the one of whom I heard speak at the
convent."

"And what interest had the superior of the convent to set a spy upon
her?" asked the smith.

"I do not know; but it is clear that the same interest still exists,
since the young lady was followed, and perhaps, at this hour, is
discovered and dishonored. Oh! it is dreadful!" Then, seeing Agricola
start suddenly, Mother Bunch added: "What, then, is the matter?"

"Yes--why not?" said the smith, speaking to himself; "why may not all
this be the work of the same hand? The superior of a convent may have a
private understanding with an abbe--but, then, for what end?"

"Explain yourself, Agricola," said t