“Oh! I entreat you, just a minute, to see the cross. I don’t know what is taking place in me, but it seems to me that I must go there, and—and pray for the unhappy man who met his death there.”
“Why, Agathe, you are positively foolish! I am not willing to stop.”
“No, I heard nothing.”
“Nothing? listen again.”
This time a prolonged groan was heard by them very distinctly. Honorine began to tremble. She tried to hasten on, but her legs gave way; she could only cling to Agathe’s arm, saying:
“You see—the peasant did not deceive us. This is a ghastly place! Mon Dieu! I should say that someone was running toward us now.”
“That is true; but it’s no man running so fast as that.”
Agathe had hardly finished speaking when Ami, the noble Newfoundland, was beside her. After running around the two friends several times, as if to see if they were alone, he went to the girl, rubbed his head against her, wagged his tail, and stood on his hind legs, fixing his intelligent eyes upon her as if to express the joy he felt at seeing her.
“It’s Ami! it’s Ami!” cried Agathe, patting the dog. “Oh! now I am not afraid any more; for, if we should be in any danger, he would defend us.”