"You have an answer for everything, Mr. Alfred. Do you know the man?"
"I cannot say that I do, madame. We have few, if any, charcoal burners in our domain. That mountain is at some distance, and he belongs most probably to another village. But I have had occasion to observe the habits of these mountaineers, and have acquired a tolerable knowledge of them generally."
"And what can he possibly be doing at this hour, in that wild place?"
"Precisely what we are doing ourselves—he is watching his fire."
After many other conjectures had been hazarded as to the way in which the charcoal burner was passing his time, Madame de Blénal said—
"A truce with these idle fancies. Our pastors in this canton are not idle, and our peasantry are generally well instructed in their Christian duties, so I trust that he is better employed than any of you suppose. Perhaps, at this moment, he is sitting with the Bible on his knee, reading of the mercies of Jesus, meditating upon them as he watches his fire, and lifting up his heart in prayer to Him who alone is able to inspire it with holy thoughts and divine affections."
"However," said the lady who had first begun the conversation, "I should really like to know what he is about. I wish some one could tell us who has actually seen him."
"I can easily satisfy your curiosity, madame," said young Alfred. "I have nothing to do but to mount my horse and gallop to the foot of the mountain. It will not be more than an hour's ride. I will then engage a guide to take me to the charcoal burner's hut, and, without losing a moment, I will find out what he was doing at nightfall."
"Are you not afraid of your son's undertaking such an enterprise at this late hour?" asked a young lady of Madame de Blénal.
Madame de Blénal smiled, and replied, "No, mademoiselle. My son is well acquainted with the road. We are not infested with robbers in this canton, and, as the object of his pursuit is perfectly innocent, I can confide him to the protection of Him on whom I know his own trust is constantly fixed. Go, then, Alfred, but exercise your usual prudence, and do not heedlessly expose yourself to danger."