Condon globe. (Condon, Gilliam Co., Or.) 189?-1919, 1901-12-26

speaking and stood before as bare head
cd, and bowling profoundly.
Madame" he said. In bland tone, ito
what town are you golngT
I'VE are going to Granville" ] an.
swered; "but | am afraid have lost the
way. We are very tired. this little child
and l. We can walk no more. monsieur.
Take care Of US, pray you"
| spoke brokenly, for In an extremity
like this II was difiicult 10 put my re-
quest into French. The priest appeared
Derplexed, but he went back and held a
short, earnest conversation with the driv-
er, In a subdued voice.
Madame" he said. returning 10 me, Il
am Francis Laurentie, the cure Of Ville-
cn.bois. II Is quite a small village about
Il league from here. and we are on the
road to it; but the route 70 Granville ID
two leagues behind US, and II II still far
ther TO the nearest village. There Ii not
time 20 return with you this evening.
Will you, then, 90 with Us TO Nille-en-
bols f-and tomorrow we viii send you
on TO Granville"
He spoke very slowly and distinctly.
with clear, cordial voice, which filed
me with confidence. ! could hardly dis
tinguish his features, but his hair was
silyery white, and shone in the gloom, as
he still stood bare-headed before me,
though the rain was falling fast.
Take care Of us, monsieur" replied.
putting my hand in his; 1--WE win go with
you."
MAKE haste, then, my children" he
said cheerfully; "the rain will hurt you.
Let me lift the mignonnel Bah! How
little she Is. Now. madame. permit me-"
There was seat in the back, which
we reached by climbing over the front
bench, assisted by the driver. There we
were well sheltered from the driving wind
aud rain. with our feet resting upon
sack OF potatoes, and the two strange
figures OF the Norman peasant In his
blouse and white cotton cap, and the
cure In his hat and eassock, filling up the
front OF the car before us.
"They are not Frenchwomen, Monsieur
ie Cure" observed the driver, after
short pause.
mo. no. my good JEAN" was the cures
answer; "by their tongue should say
they are English. Englshwomen are ex-
tremely intrepid, and voyage about all the
world quite alone, like this. II is only a
marvel to me that we have never encoun-
tered one OF them before to-day"
"Monsieur," l interrupted, feeling al
most guilty in having listened so far. II
understand French very well, though |
speak 1t badly"
Pardon. madamer' he replied, 81 hope
you will not be grieved by the foolish
words we have been speaking one to the
other"
After that all was still again for some
time, except the tinkling Of the bells, and
the pad.pad OF the horses feet upon the
steep and rugged road. BY and by viii
lage clock striking echoed family down
the valley; and the cure turned round
and addressed me again.
"There is my village, madame" he said.
stretching forth his hand to point II out;
''it is very small, and my parish contains
but four hundred and twenty-five souls,
some of them very little ones. They all
know me, and regard me as father.
They love me, though have some rebel
sons"
We entered a narrow and roughly paw
cd village street. The houses, as | saw
afterwards, were all huddled together.
with small church at the point farthest
from the entrance; and the road ended at
its porch, as IL there were no other place
in the world beyond it.
We drove at last into square court
yard, paved with pebbles. Almost be-
fore the horse could stop saw stream
of light shining from an open door across
causeway. and the voice of a woman,
whom could not see, spoke eagerly as
soon as the horses hoofs had ceased to
scrape upon the pebbles.
Ito be continued.l