The Chevalier's daughter

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

"Is there really a loop-garou?" asked David. "I thought it was only an idle tale."

"An idle tale indeed! What is the world coming to? Did not my grandfather know one—a man who used to turn himself into a wolf and scour the country at night, followed by his pack, and devouring all in his way, but especially women and children. They caught him at last, and he was burned at Sartilly, protesting his innocence all the time."

"Perhaps he was innocent," said David.

"Thou shouldst not answer thy grandfather, David," said his mother mildly; "that is rude."

"No, no; he meant no harm," said the old man. "Let it pass. You women are always finding fault with a boy. But as to the loup-garou. However, we will tell no more tales to scare mademoiselle. It is well, at all events, to remember that the good Lord is above all. But it was good snuff the poor priest had."

I inwardly resolved that I would try to procure some snuff for the old man, and that I would bribe him with it to tell me more tales of the loup-garou, about which I was very curious. I knew there was no use in asking Mother Jeanne, for she never would tell me frightful stories.

Indeed, the Reformed were not nearly as much under the influence of superstition as their neighbors of the other faith. To the last, every corner had its goblins. In this dell, the "Washers" were to be seen by the unwary night traveller, and he who acceded to their courteous request to assist them in wringing a garment, had his own heart's blood wrung out, and became a pale spectre himself. If he escaped these ghostly laundresses, there were the dancers on the field above, who were equally dangerous, and another female demon who allured young men into lonely places and there murdered and devoured them. Our country neighbors here in Cornwall are bad enough, with their piskies, and fairies, and wish-hounds, and what not, but they are not so bad as the people in Normandy and Brittany.

That night Lucille and I slept together for the last time. Her jealousy was quite overcome for the time, and we promised that we would always be good friends, and built many castles in the air on the basis of that future friendship. She was a girl of strong character in some respects, and of great talents, but she had one fault which made her and those about her very uncomfortable at times, and which came near working her utter ruin. It is not likely that she will ever see these memoirs, but if she should do so, she would not be hurt by them. The fires of affliction which she has passed through have burned up the dross of her character, and little is left but pure gold.

The next morning we went up to the château, and Jeanne took leave of me with many tears.

Father Simon had prayed especially and earnestly for me at our morning devotions, and had solemnly given me his blessing. David had shaken hands with me, and then run away to hide his feelings. It was a sorrowful parting on both sides, and when I had a last sight of Jeanne turning at the bend of the path to wave her hand to me, I felt more like an exile in a strange land than a child coming home to its father's house. So I thought then, knowing nothing of an exile's woes.