But in my sleep to you I fly,
I’m always with you in my sleep.
Yet the Abbe did not stir.
“How he sleeps,” said Susie, “it is a crime to wake him.”
“But we must; louder, Susie, louder.”
Susie and Bettina both gave free scope to the power of their voices.
Sleep stays not, though a monarch bids,
So I love to wake ere break of day.
The Cure woke with a start. After a short moment of anxiety he breathed again. Evidently no one had noticed that he had been asleep. He collected himself, stretched himself prudently, slowly, he was saved!
A quarter of an hour later the two sisters accompanied the Cure and Jean to the little gate of the park, which opened into the village a few yards from the vicarage; they had nearly reached the gate when Bettina said all at once to Jean:
“Ah! all this time I have had a question to ask you. This morning when we arrived, we met on the way a slight young man, with a fair mustache, he was riding a black horse, and bowed to us as we passed.”
“It was Paul de Lavardens, one of my friends; he has already had the honor of being introduced to you, but rather vaguely, and his ambition is to be presented again.”