Annette Bruneau was called in as she passed; and came, looking distrustfully to light and left. The parson beat a retreat, which augmented her confidence somewhat, but still she seemed not much at her ease. A question as to the price of ducks, however, reassured her. Ducks were food for Christians, and it was the souls of men and the flesh of little children on which the nameless person she dreaded to see was believed to subsist. What price for the ducks? Oh, yes, she was herself at once, and did a very fair stroke of business, too, extracting some twelve or twenty cents more from the misbelievers than she would have had the assurance to ask from the storekeeper for whom they had been destined.
"I have a letter from Miss Stanley this morning," said Mrs. Bunce.
"Ah oui, madame? I hope she goes well."
"She is so pleased with your boy Pierre. Feels really indebted to him, and says he has behaved so well."
"But yes, madame? And is it upon the affairs of Mees Stanlee zat he is not of the return?"
"He was taken up by the police. He behaved--oh! remarkably well. Miss Stanley feels under the greatest obligations to him, and will do her very utmost to have him well defended and brought off."
"Police, madame? My Pierre chez ze police!--à la prison? But vy? Is it as he have cassé la tête de personne? Ah! le pauvre garcon," and she wiped her eyes.
"I feel deeply indebted to him myself--under the very greatest obligations--which will console you, I hope. Mr. Bunce has many friends in town, and I shall make him use his influence with them; so calm yourself, my poor woman. I owe it to your boy and also to myself to console you. Take comfort. Your son has behaved extremely well. Indeed, he has shown himself a fine manly youth; you may be proud of him, you may indeed, Mrs. Bruneau; and who knows but his arrest--the man he knocked down was still unconscious when Miss Stanley wrote. The inquiry was adjourned yesterday in case it should involve a charge of manslaughter. He must have struck a fearful blow!"
"Manslaughter? Meurtre, assassinat? Incroyable!--My Pierre?" The tears ran down her quivering face, and she clasped her hands. "But perhaps I do not comprend, ze English is dificille. Say it again."
"Be comforted, my poor woman?" and Judith wiped her own eyes--she was sympathetic and even kind, after a sort, notwithstanding her absurdity. "We must submit, you know, to the dispensations of Providence; and who knows but, after all, your son's confinement may prove a precious blessing in disguise. He may have opportunities of coming in contact with the truth there. The jail chaplain is an admirable man, and I am sure will do his utmost to bring him to an appreciation of doctrinal truth, especially if Mr. Bunce were to write to him, as I shall see that he does. With a blessing that might induce the sweetest uses of adversity, as the hymn says--though, to be sure, you cannot be expected to understand that just yet--and when I come to think of it, the lad will be confined in the police cells at present, not the jail. However, I shall always feel bound to say a good word for your son, after his manly assistance to my nephew; and Gerald's father--Mr. Herkimer, you know--is bound to exert himself, and he has a great deal of influence. No; there can nothing happen to your son worse than a short detention. Keep up your heart, my friend," and she patted her gingerly on the shoulder.