hours of sickness, as well as by a slight knowledge of medicine, which
she had picked up in a way she never explained, but which always made
her silent and sad when she thought of it.

When a black and gloomy night came round, and the whole village was on
foot, then Madeleine locked herself in her room, knelt down, and
remained in prayer. Now and then she would creep to the window, look
out, and interrogate the gloom. She never came forth to greet her
father on his return from these expeditions. Her heart revolted even
against seeing her parent under such circumstances, and towards
morning she went to bed--rarely, however, to sleep.

On one occasion, after a cold and bitter day, the evening came on
suddenly. Black clouds covered the horizon as with a funeral pall; the
wind began to howl round the hamlet with fearful violence; and
Madeleine shuddered, for she knew what was to be expected that night.
Scarcely had the gale commenced, when Pierre rose, put on a thick
pea-jacket and a sou'-wester, armed himself, and swallowing a glass of
brandy, went out. He was the last to leave the village; all the rest
had preceded him. He found them encamped in a narrow gorge, round a
huge fire, carefully concealed behind some rocks. It was a cold,
windy, wet night; but the wreckers cared not, for the wind blew dead
on shore, and gave rich promise of reward for whatever they might
endure.

A man lay on the look-out at the mouth of the gorge under a tarpaulin.
He had a night-glass in his hand, with which he swept the dark
horizon, for some time in vain. But the wind was too good to fail
them, and the wreckers had patience.