CHAPTER IV.

MY UNCLE CHAMBRUN.


Having done so, I returned to my uncle, and said to him,--"Uncle, the
bishop has gone away in great wrath, vowing that you shall repent of
your conduct."

"And when I would have made way for him," said my aunt, indignantly,
"he called me a bad name, and looked as if I were the very scum of
the earth."

"Ah, he does not recognize marriages among the clergy," said my uncle,
calmly. "Never mind him, my good Dorothée; he'd be glad enough to have a
wife of his own, and seeing me so much better off than he is, makes him
captious and querulous. Come and shake up my pillow, for my poor head
aches sadly. I will try to get a little sleep."

At that instant, a loud trampling of horses' feet was heard, together
with the jingling of spurs and the clanking of armor.

"What's that?" cried Aunt Dorothée, running from the bed to the window,
and pulling back the little curtain, "Ah, le beau spectacle! Look out,
Jacques!"