are at this instant cowering in the cold and darkness in ditches and
under hedges."

"Monsieur Laccassagne might well say he could hope for no rest on this
side heaven," said my father, bitterly. "How can he rest, knowing that
his excellent wife, accustomed to every comfort, is now an outcast for
her faith--the faith which he has denied?"

"Well, I wish I could have brought you more cheerful news," said La
Croissette, rising. "In truth, you need it, in this dismal hole, to keep
up your spirits. Tell me, now, good sir, how long do you expect to be
able, you and yours, to hold out?"

"Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof," said my father. "Thanks be
to God, He does not require us to dwell on what may be in store for our
chastening. He says explicitly, 'Take no thought for the morrow--the
morrow shall take thought for the things of itself.' Words how kind and
how wise!"

This seemed to strike La Croissette a good deal. He remained in thought
a few minutes, and then said, "Well, it is time I should take my leave.
I respect you very much." Then, resuming his bantering tone, "Since
you are so willing to hazard the disturbance which poor old Monsieur
Laccassagne found it so hard to bear, I advise you to sleep day and
night while you are here, and lay in a good stock of repose against
the time when you will be deprived of it."

Stepping back again, just as he seemed going, he said, "You fancy
yourselves very safe here; and, indeed, the dragoons unless with a guide
to you, might possibly take some time to find you out; but depend on it,