"Silence!" said Aloyse, her finger on her lip.
However, Nostradamus went away without Gabriel's having said anything further; and as he did not mention the words that had fallen from the invalid on the next or any following day, Aloyse, thinking it over, feared to attract his attention to something which it might be her master's interest to conceal. So the incident appeared to have been forgotten by both of them.
Gabriel continued to improve. He recognized Aloyse and Martin-Guerre; he asked for whatever he needed; and he spoke with a gentle sadness which made it possible to hope that his reason had returned.
One morning, it was the first day that he had left his bed, he said to Aloyse,—
"Well, nurse, and the war?"
"What war, Monseigneur?"
"Why, the war against Spain and England."
"Oh, Monseigneur, I hear sad news of that. The Spaniards, reinforced by twelve thousand English, have entered Picardy, they say, and there is fighting going on all along the frontier."
"So much the better," said Gabriel.
Aloyse attributed this reply to the remains of his delirium. But the next morning, with perfect coolness, Gabriel said to her,—