ng given up killing things with it.

I had grown immensely fond of this colossal old "bourru
bienfaisant," as he was called in La Tremblaye, and believe that all
his moroseness and brutality were put on, to hide one of the
warmest, simplest, and tenderest hearts in the world.

Before dawn Barty woke up with such a start that he woke me:

"Enfin! ca y est! quelle chance!" he exclaimed.

"Quoi, quoi, quoi?" said I, quacking like a duck.

"Le nord--c'est revenu--it's just ahead of us--a little to the
left!"

We were nearing Paris.

And thus ended the proudest and happiest time I ever had in my life.
Indeed I almost had an adventure on my own account--_une bonne
fortune_, as it was called at Brossard's by boys hardly older than
myself. I did not brag of it, however, when I got back to school.

It was at "Les Laiteries," or "Les Poteries," or "Les Crucheries,"
or some such place, the charming abode of Monsieur et Madame
Pelisson--only their name wasn't Pelisson, or anything like it. At
dinner I sat next to a Miss ----, who was very tall and wore blond
side ringlets. I think she must have been the English governess.

We talked very much together, in English; and after dinner we walked
in the garden together by starlight arm in arm, and she was so kind
and genial to me in English that I felt quite chivalrous and
romantic, and ready to do doughty deeds for her sake.

Then, at M. Pelisson's request, all the company assembled in a group
for evening prayer, under a spreading chestnut-tree on the lawn: the
prayer sounded very much like the morning or evening prayer at
Brossard's, except that the Almighty was addressed as "toi" instead
of "vous"; it began:

"Notre Pere qui es aux cieux--toi dont le regard scrutateur penetre
jusque dans les replis les plus profonds de nos coeurs"--and ended,
"Ainsi soit-il!"

The night was very dark, and I stood close to Miss ----, who stood
as it seemed with her hands somewhere behind her back. I was so
grateful to her for having talked to me so nicely, and so fond of
her for being English, that the impulse seized me to steal my hand
into hers--and her hand met mine with a gentle squeeze which I
returned; but soon the pressure of her hand increased, and by the
time M. le Cure had got to "au nom du Pere" the pressure of her hand
had become an agony--a thing to make one shriek!

"Ainsi soit-il!" said M. le Cure, and the little group broke up, and
Miss ---- walked quietly indoors with