The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1870-05-26
II H E.
II ::
VILLAGEON THECLIFF,
BY MISS THACKERAY.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE ABBAYE AUX DANES.


Meanwhile Catharine, in good spirits
and in better heart than she had felt
for many day, was picking her way
between the stones, and walking up the
little village street with her husband.
Fontaine, nimbly advancing with
neatly gathered feet, bowed right and
left to, his acquaintances, stopping every
now and then to inquire more particu-
larly after this PERSONS health. or that
ones interest, as was his custom. The
children were, at play in the little gar
den in the front Of the cottages, the
women were sitting in groups dancing
their bobbins, spinning, whirring, twist
ing, stitching, Their tongues were
wagging to the flying Of their fingers
and the bobbing of their white caps.
Some Of the men were winding string
upon nails fixed to the walls, some were
mcnding their nets, others we're talking
70 the women, who answered, never
ceasing their work for IN instant. Be-
tween the houses a faint, hazy sea
showed glittering against the line walls.
Dominique, from tho farm, came down
the middle of the street with some
horses clattering down to the water =;
Marion and others called out greeting
to him as he passed. "And when does
Mademoisellc Cheretien return ?" said
Madame Potter from the door of her
shop.
"Who can tell?" said Dominique,
clattering away. "To-morrow perhaps"
He took off his hat to Monsieur Fon-
taine, and Madame Potter beamed a
recognition as they passed.
Catharinc asked her husband why
so many of the men were at home.
She had not been long enough by the
sea to read the 81 gns of the times in the
southwest wind now blowing gently
in their 1aces-in the haze which hid
the dark rocks of the Calvados.
Fontaine adjusted his glasses and
looked up at the sky, and then at the
faint blue horizontal line. "These fine
mornings are often deceptive" said he,
"although it is hard to believe in bad
weather on such day as this" Every
thing was SO bright and so still, the
wind so gentle, that it seemed as il
gales could never blow again, or storms
rise. The sun poured down upon the
dusty road. Now and then tho threads
of the women at work stirred in the
soft little breeze; the voices sounded
unusually distinct-a cheerful echo o1
life from every doorway. Presently
two men and boy, tramping down
toward the sea, passed by, carrying oars
and rope-ends. These were Lefebvres,
who evidently thought, like Catharine.
that no storm need be apprehended
when the sun shono so steadily and the
sea lay so calm. The boy looked ur
and grinncd, and his bright blue eyes
gave a gleam of recognition, for he
knew Madame Fontaine; one of the
men, Christophe Lefebvre, touched hif
cap; the other, who was his cousin
tramped on doggedly: Joseph Lefeb
,vre was the most obstinate man in the
village, aud no one dared demonstrate
with him. Chrlstophe and he had
words that morning, it was said, about
their coming expedition, but it ended
in Christophe going too at :Isabeau'l
prayer. Ho never refused Isabeau any
thing she asked, poor tellow-that Wal
known to them ell. The men wen
their way, aud at some distance, watch
ing them, and muttering to herself, ole
Nanou followed: her brown old leg
trembled as she staggered along unde
her load Of seaweed. tsChristophe wa
fool" she said. z.2seWhat did he meai
by giving in to that dolt Of Joseph?'
! So shs passed in her turn mutterin,
and grumbling. Catharine would hsv
stopped. and spoken to her, but the ol