have had presentiments of evil, and I am really becoming superstitious!"

He again stood still, gazing up the river, and, seeing nothing, resumed
his place between the two priests, who had continued their walk.

"Yes," he continued, "I have presentiments which refuse to be shaken off.
I am not so old that age can have weakened my powers and reduced me to
childishness, I cannot even say what I am afraid of, but separation is
painful and causes an involuntary terror. Strange, is it not? Formerly,
I used to leave my wife for months together, when she was young and my
son only, an infant; I loved her passionately, yet I could go with
pleasure. Why, I wonder, is it so different now? Why should a journey
to Paris on business, and a few hours' delay, make, me so terribly
uneasy? Do you remember, my father," he resumed, after a pause, turning
to the cure, "do you remember how lovely Marie looked on our wedding-day?
Do you remember her dazzling complexion and the innocent candour of her
expression?--the sure token of the most truthful and purest of minds!
That is why I love her so much now; we do not now sigh for one another,
but the second love is stronger than the first, for it is founded on
recollection, and is tranquil and confident in friendship . . . . It
is strange that they have not returned; something must have happened! If
they do not return this evening, and I do not now think it possible, I
shall go to Paris myself to-morrow."

"I think;" said the other priest, "that at twenty you must indeed have
been excitable, a veritable tinder-box, to have retained so much energy!
Come, monsieur, try to calm yourself and have patience: you yourself
admit it can only be a few hours' delay."

"But my son accompanied his mother, and he is our only one, and so