"It is well."
Then Catherine pushed back her hood from her head, and sat down at the end of the bench. Hullin looked fixedly at her: he perceived something extraordinary and mysterious about her which fascinated him.
"What has happened, then?" said he, putting down his hammer.
Instead of answering this question, she turned toward the door, and seemed to be listening; then hearing no sound, her serious expression came back.
"Yégof the madman spent last night at the farm," said she.
"He came to see me this afternoon," rejoined Hullin, without attaching any importance to this fact, which was totally indifferent to him.
"Yes," replied the old dame, in a low voice, "he spent the night with us; and yesterday evening, about this time, in the kitchen, before us all, this madman related terrible things!"
Then she relapsed into silence, and the corners of her mouth seemed to turn down more than ever.
"Terrible things!" murmured the shoemaker, excessively astonished: for he had never seen Catherine Lefèvre in such a condition before. "But what then? say, what?"
"Dreams I have had!"