"Where is he? Where is Monsieur Van Zandt, my daughter?" he questioned, eagerly.
"Where?" echoed Little Nobody. "Why, in the next room, doubtless, good father, for a minute ago I was with him, and then I found myself here so suddenly that it seemed a little strange to me."
"Yes, it is strange," said the old priest, growing pale and hurriedly crossing himself. "But you are mistaken. He is not in this house. If you know where he is, tell me, daughter."
She shut her eyes reflectively, opened them again, and answered, dreamily:
"He was lying on a bed in a pretty room, where a lamp was burning all day. There was a red wound on his breast, and he was pale and ill. I do not know the house, but Madame Lorraine can tell you, for it was her servant, Mima, that I saw giving him a glass of water."
[CHAPTER XV.]
The nun looked at the old priest with round eyes of wonder.
"Father Quentin, what strange thing is this?" she uttered, fearfully.