“Honored Superior, she will be back in the morning. Those half-Indians are not like French girls; they have the bird in them. This one will hop over all evil hap.”
“I would ring the tocsin,” said Sister Brésoles, “if alarming the town would recall her. Without doubt, though,” she sighed, “the girl has returned to her father.”
“Honored Superior, if she comes not back to matins as clean and fresh as a brier-rose, turn me out of the Hôtel-Dieu.”
“Get you to bed, Jouaneaux, and, let me tell you, you must meddle no more with novices. These young creatures are ever a weight on one’s heart.”
“Especially this one,” lamented Jouaneaux, as, leaving the chapel behind Sister Brésoles, he rolled his eyes in one last gaze at the rood-loft.
XVI.
FIRST USE OF A KNIFE.
