to meet her.

--Your father is after the Curés again. What can these poor people of God
have done to the man?

They walked a long time round the kitchen-garden, then they sat down under
an arbour of honeysuckle.

--What time is it, Marianne? the young girl said all at once, fixing her
eyes on the window of her father's room.

--It is late, my child, it is ten o'clock at least; everybody in the
village has gone to bed. Come, your father has finished his newspaper,
there is no longer any light in his room; he has just blown out his lamp.
Let us go in.

They were near the little back-gate which led out to the meadows. Suzanne
opened it cautiously: "No, let us go out," she said.




XXXV.


THE SHELTER.

"Is it a chance? No. And besides;
chance, what is it after all but the
effect of a cause which escapes us?"