You don't know," replied she absently; "there are shadows beginning to fall towards the east."

Very short ones, though."

"But they will lengthen every minute, and we shall start so late."

Come, tell me some more about the hard winter."

"Ah! I don't like to think of the hard winter. My poor, poor mother died, commending me to my father's and brother's care, and poor Michel to mine. The ground was so hard, we could not have her grave dug till the frost broke up. When the frost broke up, the people of the three valleys returned to their homes, but not to be happy and thriving as before. The men who had been employed in populous cities, had heard strange, new doctrines preached, and came back to infect their families with them."

What kind of new doctrines?"

Why, that there should be only two sacraments instead of seven, and that the eucharist should be administered in both kinds to the -laity; and that the Blessed Virgin and the saints

were to be reverenced but not worshipped, and

"Nay, I can readily wait. This kitchen is so cool and shady that half my fatigue is gone already."

Have a draught of milk, at any rate. Are you going to Le Puy?”

Yes; it looks but a step."

"It is farther, however, than it seems. The size of the rock Corneille, on which it stands, and the clear air of a day like this, deceive one ; besides which, you can't reach it as a crow flies. There is a river to cross, and a marsh to go round by a circuitous path, unless you are light-footed and acquainted with its stepping-stones; there is also a rugged descent to the broken bridge in the thicket. But, if you will join our party, we will show you the nearest way. Are you a pedlar?" Why-yes."

You have a very small pack."

It only contains a few hymn books and broad-sheets. Perhaps you will buy one?" "Ah, I have no money to spare."

Accept one, then, in return for your milk. You can read, I suppose?”

Oh, yes, Christophe taught me."

"Here comes your brother; I see his shadow across the door."

"Ah, it is only my youngest brother, poor Michel."

At the same instant, a heavy-looking lad, disfigured by a goître, and with a half-imbecile look, staggered into the cottage. He stood stupidly staring for a minute or two at the stranger, and then approaching his sister, said something inarticulate, in a plaintive tone, which only her practised ear could render into "Where's Christophe?"

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Christophe will soon be here," said she, cheerily. "You want your dinner, Michel, and that is why the time seems long. Eat this;" and she gave him a piece of bread. He sank down on the ground at her feet, with his shoulders resting against her knees; and when he had eaten. the bread, she gave him a cup of milk. After this, he dropped his head back on her lap, and instantly fell asleep.

Poor fellow," said she, fondly stroking his hair, and stooping down to kiss his forehead; "he has been basking in the hot sun, watching for Christophe, till the heat has made him drowsy. It is as well he should have a nap before we start. Won't you help yourself to some bread and cheese? You see I am fixed."

No, I'll wait for Christophe," said her guest; 'I shall see him before you will, where I am sitting; and when we are tired of chatting, I will read to you awhile, and that will make the time seem short."

"He certainly ought to be near home by this time. I can't think what keeps him."

Whose castle is that I see perched on a crag

a great way off?"

"The Baron de St. Vidal's.

He's a terrible

Turk; and yet people say there's some good in him. I don't know what it consists in. He is one of the three saints; so they call him and the Barons of St. Hérem and St. Chaumont; but, for my part, I think they might better be called the three sinners. They have no fellow-feeling for poor people, and, instead of protecting, they oppress us."

The universal story, my good girl.”

Ought it, need it, to be so?"

Certainly not."

Why, now, the year of the bad harvest-Do

you see Christophe coming?"

No, the road is quite clear. What were you going to say?"

The year when the harvest and vintage so miserably failed, the rich ought to have come forward and helped us poor people; but instead of

that, they took from us what little we had."

'The monks ought to have helped you."

"The monks! Why, the monks of Chanteuges

used to sally forth at night and rob on the highway!"

"I shall never forget that year it was the year my mother died. I used to sit beside her bed, making lace at every spare moment; and then came the law that only the nobles were to wear lace, which cut off one great branch of our trade, that among the rich citizens. The men of Le Velay scattered far and wide, that winter, in search of work, locking up their houses, and sending their wives and children into the fortified towns ; but my mother was too ill to be moved, and my father and Christophe would not leave her. It was well they did not, or we should have been devoured by the wolves that came up to our very door. As it was, we should have perished of hunger, but for the goodness of our neighbours, every one of whom, before dispersing, brought us