"If that is the case," he continued, "madame is perfectly secure in my castle. You do not ask me what brings me back again so soon. But I will tell you, madame. At Noireau, the proprietor of the omnibus to Granville told me that an Englishman had gone that morning to visit my little parish. Good! We do not have that honor every day. I ask him to have the goodness to tell me the Englishman's name. It is written in the book at the bureau. Monsieur Fostère. I remember that name well, very well. That is the name of the husband of my little English daughter. Fostère! I see in a moment it will not do to proceed, on my voyage. But I find that my good Jacques has taken on the char-à-banc a league or two beyond Noireau, and I am compelled to await his return. There is the reason that I return so late."
"O monsieur!" I exclaimed, "how good you are—"
"Pardon, madame," he interrupted, "let me hear the end of Jean's history."
Jean continued his report in his usual phlegmatic tone, and concluded with the assurance that he had seen the Englishman safe out of the village, and returning by the road he came.
"I could have wished," said the curé, regretfully, "that we might have shown him some hospitality in Ville-en-bois; but you did what was very good, Jean. Yet we did not encounter any stranger along the route."
"Not possible, monsieur," replied Jean; "it was four o'clock when he returned on his steps, and it is now after nine. He would pass the Calvary before six. After that, Monsieur le Curé, he might take any route which pleased him."
"That is true, Jean," he said, mildly; "you have done well. You may go now. Where is Monsieur the Vicaire?"
"He sleeps, monsieur, in the guest's chamber, as usual."
"Bien! Good-evening, Jean, and a good-night."
"Good-night, Monsieur le Curé, and all the company," said Jean.