"Yes, I know; but—" in a frightened whisper. "Ah, Vevette, take good care of yourself. The mother says the French king will have you back if he goes to war for you."
"I am not alarmed," I answered. "The French king has his hands too full to care or concern himself for such an insignificant person as I am. But who is that?" I added, starting as a plainly dressed woman looked into the room and withdrew again.
"That is our interpreter," answered Sister Margaret. "She is a heretic—more is the pity—but she is very good and useful."
"I beseech you, sister, make some excuse to call her hither," said I, all of a tremble. "I am sure I know her."
The sister called her, and held her a moment in some conversation while I looked at her. No, I was not mistaken.
"Lucille!" said I.
She turned, looked at me a moment with wide eyes of wonder, and then dropped in a dead faint at my feet. I had her in my arms in a moment.
"It is my foster-sister," said I to Mrs. Folsom. "I thought she was dead."
I almost thought so again before we brought her to; but she revived at last, and knew me. Poor thing, she was sadly changed. Her black hair was quite gray, and her face looked fifty years old. She went home with us, and after a while was composed enough to tell us her story. She said she had become horribly sick of the convent life, and having fallen into disgrace with her Superior, she determined to make her escape. For this purpose, she feigned stupidity almost to idiocy, and having thus thrown her watchers off their guard, she made her escape; putting on some clothes she found thrown aside, and disposing of her own garments in the way they were found. She had made her way by one means and another to Dieppe, where she fell in with a captain's wife, who was in sore straits for want of a servant. With her, she took service, and came to the new settlements, where she had lived ever since. With what joy she received the news of her parents' welfare, I leave to be guessed.
I have little more to tell in order to complete this long history. Mother Mary took her departure after a fortnight's delay, during which she received a great deal of kindness from the good people, and had more than one sharp theological duel. She did not, however, carry away all her flock.