The Prioress, better read in the lives of the saints than in the sects of heretics, did not know whether this meant that he was of her own faith or not; and her woman’s heart being much moved by his pleadings, she said, ‘I will heartily give your daughter to you, sir, as indeed I must, if she be here; but you have never seen her?
‘No; only her empty cradle in the burnt house. But I MUST know her. She is a year old.
‘We have two babes of that age; but I fear me you will scarce see much likeness in either of them to any one you knew,’ said the Prioress, thoughtfully. ‘However, there are two girls old enough to remember the parentage of their companions, though we forbade them to mention it. Would you see them, sir?
‘And the infants, so please you, reverend Mother,’ exclaimed Berenger.
She desired him to wait, and after an interval of suspense there was a pattering of little sabots behind the partition, and through the grating he beheld six little girls in blue serge frocks and tight white caps. Of the two infants, one with a puny, wizen, pinched face was in the arms of the Prioress; the other, a big, stout, coarse child, with hard brown cheeks and staring black-eyes, was on its own feet, but with a great basket-work frame round its head to save it from falls. There were two much more prepossessing children of three or four, and two intelligent-looking girls of perhaps eight and ten, to the elder of whom the Prioress turned, saying, ‘Agathe, I release you from my command not to speak of your former life, and desire you to tell this gentleman if you know who were the parents of these two little ones.
‘Yes, reverend Mother,’ said Agathe, readily; ‘the old name of Claire’ (touching the larger baby) ‘was Salome Potier: her mother was the washerwoman; and Nannonciade, I don’t know what her name was, but her father worked for Maitre Brassier who made the kettles.
Philip felt relieved to be free from all doubt about these very uninviting little ones, but Berenger, though sighing heavily, asked quickly, ‘Permit me, Madame, a few questions.—Little maid, did you ever hear of Isaac Gardon?
‘Maitre Isaac! Oh yes, sir. We used to hear him preach at the church, and sometimes he catechized us,’ she said, and her lip quivered.
‘He was a heretic, and I abjure him,’ added the other girl, perking up her head.
‘Was he in the town? What became of him?’ exclaimed Berenger.