CHAPTER XVII.
THE COTTAGE OF ROBERT ESTIENNE.
The cottage or country-house, that Robert Estienne owned near St. Ouen, on the St. Denis road, was located in a secluded spot, and at a considerable distance from the village. The byroad which led to the entrance of the residence ran upon a gate of grated iron near a little lodge occupied by the gardener and his wife. The principal dwelling rose in the center of a garden enclosed by a wall. The day after that on which the Franc-Taupin, the Mauvais-Garçon and the Tire-Laine held their conference at the tavern of the Black Grape, Michael, Robert Estienne's gardener, having returned from the field late in the afternoon, and being not a little out of sorts at not finding his wife Alison at their home, the key of which she had carried away with her, was grumbling, storming and blowing upon his fingers numb with the December chill. Finally his wife, no doubt returning from the village, hove in sight, and wended her way towards the gate.
"Where the devil did you go to?" Michael called out to Alison as he saw her from a distance. "Could you not at least have left the key in the door? The devil take those forgetful women!"
"I went—to confession," answered the gardener's wife avoiding her husband's eyes, and pushing open the gate. "I took the key with me because you were afield."
"To confession!—To confession!" replied Michael with a growl. "And I was freezing to death."
"All the same I must see to my salvation. You sent me this morning with a letter to our master. The curate was good enough to wait for me at the confessional after dinner. I availed myself of his kindness."
"Very well. But, may the devil take it! I wish you would try to gain paradise without exposing me to be frozen to death."
The couple had barely stepped into the lodge when Michael stopped to listen in the direction of the gate and said, surprisedly:
"I hear the gallop of a horse!"
The brave Michael stepped out again, looked through the grating of the gate, recognized Robert Estienne, and called out: