It was not until midday that Nadine and Abel awoke, and as the three children were exchanging embraces the housekeeper came to say that dinner was ready, and that the curé invited them all to dine with him.
Wonderfully refreshed by their sound sleep, delighted at being together again in so comfortable an establishment, and with the keenest of appetites, the three children followed the housekeeper into the dining-room where they were graciously received by the benevolent curé.
M. Blandinière seated them at the table, and saw to it that they had thoroughly enjoyed the steaming savory soup before he asked them any questions.
Then he drew them out to talk about themselves, and to tell him their whole story, to which he listened with deep interest and sympathy. He had reached the age of seventy years, for two score of which he had been the curé of Mamezan, where he was universally beloved for his good deeds, and amiable qualities. He was the kind providence of the unfortunate, the confidant of the young, the most trusted friend of the old, the comforter of the sorrowing, the one whose presence was sought above all others by those drawing near the dread Valley of the Shadow.
When Nadine in her clear sweet way had finished her recital, the good man murmured as he placed his soft white hand gently upon her head:
"Poor little things! Poor little things! Orphans! Left alone in the world at the very time when most in need of counsel and protection!"
Then he was silent for a moment while the children fixed their eyes upon his wrinkled countenance that expressed benignity in every line. Presently he spoke:
"I am very poor, my dears, and am not able to do much for you, but however poor one may be it is their duty to share what they have with those who are still worse off. Your purpose is, you say, to continue your journey that you may recover your sister, and earn your living. That is right, I approve of your resolution, but you are worn out. You need a good rest before you can proceed, and I am going to keep you for a while. We will take good care of your elephant so that he may regain his health, and will look after your horse and dog. The Christmas festival is at hand. We will join you in praying to the good God that He will restore to you the little one for whom you mourn. I will allow you to give a performance at Mamezan before you leave—that is, after the Christmas fêtes. For the present you are my guests, and I want you to enjoy yourselves thoroughly."
With brimming eyes and quivering lips, for the kindness of the curé moved them deeply, Nadine and Cæsar tried to find words in which to express their gratitude, while Abel, inspired by one of the happy impulses of childhood, slipped down from his chair, and gliding to the curé's side, put up his face, whispering: