re lost
in the depths of a chair which Mme. Poussette had found in one of the
disused rooms, padded and carved, but also torn and moth-eaten;
nevertheless a comfortable refuge on such a day, and soon the reverend
lady sank into a soothing slumber, while her husband read from a book
he carried in his pocket.

It grew dark and madame was lighting a couple of lamps when the priest
and Ringfield entered. Explanations were in order, but as neither of
them mentioned Edmund Crabbe, Miss Clairville's true position was not
made known, and it was arranged that as soon as somebody's clothes were
sufficiently dried and somebody's horse rubbed down and fed, somebody
should pick her up at Leduc's barn and so return with her to St. Ignace.

"Of course _you_ will go, Dr. Renaud," said Mrs. Abercorn, waking up
abruptly and joining in the conversation with her usual judicial air.
"But take some supper first."

"Has not mademoiselle already waited overlong?" exclaimed Poussette.
"It is nearly six o'clock and dark--shall I not return now, and bring
her back with me?"

"I think not," said the doctor, who partly understood the situation.
"She will not expect to reach Clairville at all to-night, and, as Mrs.
Abercorn says, as soon as I have something to eat, and a little to wash
it down with--I myself shall go for her. Here, Poussette--off with
your coat! Stir yourself now, and bring us the best the manor affords.
It's no secret that since Mme. Archambault and her tribe have cleared
out, we are masters of all contained in these generous closets--these
roomy cellars I have heard of so often. Madame--the cloth, if you
please, the dishes, the plates! Poussette--the wine, the old liqueurs,
the glasses!"

"But sir, consider the fate of ma'amselle!" cried Poussette piteously.
"She is alone--oh, poor lady--in Leduc's barn, without light, without
warmth, with nothing to eat or drink! How then--do you wish to desert
her?"

"Not I," said the doctor composedly. "But I know mademoiselle, she is
true Canadienne, not afraid of a little snow, a little storm! And the
secret of my profession is--always to eat and always to drink when good
food and good drink are going. Madame, make haste there!"

"If I could assist you,----" began Mr. Abercorn, but stopped, for his
glance wandered to his wife, who had never approved of Miss Clairville.

"You must not dream of such a thing, Marcus. Leave me here in this
strange house, and go back by yoursel