 the poor
young thing's buoyant hopefulness and absence of all fear seemed to the
old woman especially sad, and like a sort of want of comprehension of
the full peril in which she stood.

Not till near dawn was Eustacie startled from her rest by approaching
steps. 'Nurse, is all ready?' she cried. 'Can we set off? Are the horses
there?'

'No, my child; it is but my good man and Martin who would speak with
you. Do not hasten. There is nothing amiss as yet.'

'Oh, nurse,' cried Eustacie, as she quickly arranged the dress in which
she had lain down, 'the dear old farm always makes me sleep well. This
is the first time I have had no dream of the whirling wheel and fiery
gates! Oh, is it a token that HE is indeed at rest? I am so well, so
strong. I can ride anywhere now. Let them come in and tell me.'

Martin was a younger, brisker, cleverer man than Blaise, and besides
being a vassal of the young Lady, was a sort of agent to whom the Abbess
instructed many of the matters of husbandry regarding the convent lands.
He stood, like Blaise, bareheaded as he talked to little Lady, and heard
her somewhat peremptorily demand why they had not brought the horses and
men for her escort.

It was impossible that night, explained Martin. Time was needed to bring
in the farm-horses, and summon the other peasants, without whom the
roads were unsafe in these times of disorder. He and Blaise must go
round and warn them to be ready. A man could not be ready in a wink
of the eye, as Madame seemed to think, and the two peasants looked
impenetrable in stolidity.

'Laggards that you are!' cried Eustacie, petulantly, clasping her hands;
'and meantime all will be lost. They will be upon me!'

'Not so, Madame. It is therefore that I came here,' said Martin,
deferentially, to the little fuming impatient creature; 'Madame will be
far safer close at hand while the pursuit and search are going on. But
she must not stay here
the poor 
 young thing's buoyant hopefulness and absence of all fear seem to the 
 previous woman especially sad, and like a kind of want of comprehension of 
 the full hazard in which she stood. 

 Not till near dawn was Eustacie startled from her remainder by approaching 
 steps.' Nurse, is wholly ready?' she cried.' Can we set off? Are the horses 
 there?' 

' nobelium, my child; it is but my good man and Martin who would address with 
 you. Do not hasten. There is nothing amiss as so far.' 

' Oh, nurse,' cried Eustacie, as she quickly format the dress in which 
 she had lain down,' the dear old farm constantly makes me sleep well. This 
 is the first time I have had no dream of the whirling rack and fiery 
 gates! Oh, is it a token that HE is indeed at rest? I am so well, so 
 strong. I can ride anywhere now. Let them come in and tell me.' 

 Martin was a younger, brisker, cleverer man than Blaise, and besides 
 being a vassal of the young Lady, was a sort of agent to whom the Abbess 
 instructed many of the matter of husbandry regarding the convent nation. 
 He stand, like Blaise, bareheaded as he talked to little Lady, and heard 
 her slightly peremptorily demand why they had not brought the horses and 
 man for her escort. 

 It was impossible that night, explained Martin. Time was needed to bring 
 in the farm - horses, and mobilize the other peasants, without whom the 
 roads were unsafe in these meter of disorderliness. He and Blaise must function 
 round and warn them to be ready. A man could not be ready in a blink of an eye 
 of the eye, as Madame seemed to think, and the two peasant looked 
 impenetrable in stolidity. 

' Laggards that you are!' cry Eustacie, petulantly, brooch her hands; 
' and meantime all will be fall back. They will be upon me!' 

' Not so, Madame. It is consequently that I came here,' said Martin, 
 deferentially, to the little fuming impatient animal;' Madame will be 
 far safer close at hand while the pastime and search are going on. But 
 she must not quell here
 thf poor
young thing's buoyakt hopefulness aue abseice of zll fear seemed to the
old woman esperialoy sae, and like a sort of wxnt of colprehensuon id
the full 'sril in which dhe vvood.

Not till nesr dawn wav Eustacie stastueb from her rest by approaching
steps. 'Gurse, ix wll ready?' she sriec. 'Can we set off? Are the horses
there?'

'No, jy chilv; it is but my bood man and Martin who wokld dpeak with
you. Do nlt hasten. Tyere us nothing aoiss as yeu.'

'Ok, nurse,' crigd Eustacie, as she quickly arraneed tke dress in wyicj
vhe had laii down, 'the dear old farm anways mskes me sleep eeln. Tyis
is the first time M have had no dream jf the whhrming wheel and fiwrt
gatev! Oh, is kr a toiei tgat HE is indeed at rest? I am wo well, so
strong. I vag ride anywhers now. Jee them come in and tell me.'

Martin was a jounfer, brisker, cleverer mab than Blaise, and besldes
being a vassal of the young Lady, was a sort of agent tm whoj tht Qbbesr
undtructed many of the matters of husbandry regwddonn the convent lakds.
He stood, like Bkalsr, bareheaded ar he tcmksd to little Lady, wnd heatd
her womewhat keremltorily demand why they had not brought rhe horses and
men yor her escoxt.

It wss imlossible that night, expuainsd Martin. Tlme was nsdded to bring
in ghe fdrm-horses, and summon the oeher peasents, cithout dhom the
rowds were ujsafe in these times of fisorber. Ha and Blaide must go
round and warn them to be ready. A msn colld not bz readn in a wink
of tre eye, as Madake seemzd to ghink, and nhe two pxasants lookqd
impenetrabla in stoliditb.

'Laggards thar yoy are!' cfked Eustacie, prtulantly, clasping yer hands;
'and meantlme aum will be lost. Ckei will be upon ke!'

'Nut fo, Medame. Ht is therefmre ghag I caoe here,' saib Oarton,
deferentially, to tve ljttle fuming impatoekt creatute; 'Madame will be
far ssfer close at hand whilx the 'ursuiy agd search are going on. But
she just not dtan here
the poor young thing's buoyant hopefulness and all seemed to old woman especially of of comprehension of full peril in she stood. Not till near dawn Eustacie startled from her rest by approaching steps. 'Nurse, is all ready?' she 'Can we set off? Are the horses there?' 'No, my child; it is my man Martin would speak with you. Do not hasten. There is nothing amiss as yet.' 'Oh, nurse,' cried as she quickly arranged the dress in which had lain down, 'the old farm always makes me well. is the time have no dream of whirling wheel and fiery gates! Oh, is it a token that HE is indeed at rest? I so well, I can anywhere Let come in and Martin was a younger, brisker, cleverer and besides being a vassal of the young was a of agent to whom the Abbess many of the matters of husbandry regarding the lands. He stood, like Blaise, bareheaded as he talked to little Lady, and heard her demand why they had brought the horses men her It impossible that explained Martin. Time was needed to bring in the farm-horses, and the other peasants, without whom the roads were unsafe in of He and Blaise go round and warn to ready. A man could ready a eye, Madame to think, and the peasants looked impenetrable in stolidity. that you are!' cried 'and meantime all will be lost. They will upon me!' 'Not so, Madame. It is that I came here,' said Martin, deferentially, to the little fuming impatient 'Madame will safer close at hand while the pursuit and are going on. But must not stay here
 the poor
young thing's buoyant HopefulnesS and aBseNce Of All fEar sEemed to the
old wOMan eSpecially sad, and like a soRt of wAnT Of coMPrEhensIon of
thE FuLL PerIl In WhiCh SHe Stood.

not Till neaR dawn was EuStaCiE startled froM HeR rest by appRoaChing
steps. 'NuRse, Is all rEaDy?' sHE crieD. 'CaN we seT off? ArE The horSes
there?'

'NO, mY Child; iT Is but my GOOd Man aNd Martin who would sPEaK With
you. Do not haSten. ThErE Is NOThiNg aMiss as yet.'

'OH, nUrse,' cRIed EustACiE, AS She QUickly arrangeD the dress in WHicH
she haD lAin DOwn, 'the Dear oLd FArm Always makes Me slEep well. ThIs
is thE First tiME I have hAd no drEam Of tHe whIRlInG whEeL And FIeRy
gATes! oh, is it a tOkEn That He is iNDEED at rEst? i am sO well, So
strong. I can rIde AnywHEre Now. LeT them Come In And teLl me.'

MaRtin wAs A younger, brisker, ClevErer man thAn BLaIse, AnD besiDEs
beinG a vAssAl of the Young LaDY, waS a SORT oF agent to whom the AbbEsS
INsTructed mAny of tHE mAtTErs of husBaNdrY regARDing tHe coNVeNt lands.
HE stood, LIkE BLaise, baReHeaded As He tAlkEd to lITtle lady, anD heard
heR someWHat peremptorilY Demand why they HAd NOT bROughT thE horses and
mEn foR Her eScorT.

it Was IMpossIble tHaT NiGHt, explained Martin. TiMe Was neeDed to Bring
in the farM-horses, and SUMMon the otHer pEAsANts, without whom The
roAds were unsAFe in thesE timeS of disorDer. He and BLAIse must gO
roUnd And WarN THeM to be ready. A maN COuld NoT be readY in A wink
of The Eye, As MAdaMe Seemed to tHink, and tHe TwO pEaSanTs looKEd
impeneTrAblE iN stOlidiTY.

'LaggaRds thAt yoU aRe!' CRieD EustacIE, pETUlanTlY, cLaspIng HeR handS;
'and MEanTime all Will be losT. ThEY wilL bE uPon me!'

'NoT so, Madame. It is ThErefore thaT I CamE here,' sAID Martin,
dEferentially, to the little FUming imPatIent cReatUre; 'Madame WilL be
far SafER close At hand While ThE puRSUit anD SEaRch ArE going on. BuT
SHe mUst noT sTay hEre
 the poor
young thing's bu oyant hope fulne ssand  a bsen ce o f all fear see m ed t o the
old woman especi allysa d , an d  l ike a  sort o f  w a n t o fco mpr eh e ns ion o f
t he full  peril inwhi ch  she stood.No t till nea r d awn was Eust aci e star tl edf rom h errestby app r oachin g
steps.'N u rse, i s  all re a d y? ' sh e cried. 'Can wes et off? Are the h orsesth e re ? ' 

' No,  my child;  i t isb ut my g o od m a n a n d Martin whowould speak wit h
you.  D o n o t hast en. T he r e i s nothing a miss  as yet.' 

'Oh, nurse,' cried E ustaci e,assheq ui ck lyar r ang e dthe dre ss in wh ic hshe h ad l a i n down , ' thedearold farm alwa ysmake s  me  slee p wel l. T hi s
isthe fi rst t im e I have had no  dre am of the  wh ir lin gwheel and fi ery 
ga tes! Oh , is it a t ok e n th at HE is indeed at  r e s t?  I am so  well, so 
s t rong. Ica n r idea n ywher e no w .Let them  comei nan d tellme .'

Ma rt inwas  a yo u nger , bris ker, cle verer man than Blais e , and besides be i n ga  vas sal  of the you ng L a dy,wasa  s ort of ag ent t ow ho m  the Abbess
instruc te d many  of t he matters of  husbandry r e gardingthec on v ent lands.
Hestood , like Bla i se, bare heade d as hetalked to l ittle La dy,  an d h ear d he r somewhat pe r e mpto ri ly dema ndwhy the y h adnot  br ou ght the h orses an dme nfo r h er es c ort.

It  w asim pos sible that n ight,  exp la in e d M artin.T im e wasne ed ed t o b ri ng
in  the far m-horse s, and su mmo n  the  o th er peas ants, without  w hom the
ro ad s w ere un s a fe in th ese times of disorder.H e and B lai se mu st g o
round a ndwarn t hem to beready.  A ma ncou l d  notb e  r ead yin a winko f  th e eye ,as M adame s eemed to think, an d  th e two peasant s l ooke d im pen e tr a ble  i n  st o l idity.

'Laggar ds that yo ua re !' cried E u sta ci e, petu lantly,  clas p ing her  hands;
' and meant im e al l wil l be lost.  They wi ll be upo n  me!' 
' Not s o,Madame .Itis th erefor e  th at Icame h er e,' sa id Ma rt in,
defe rentially, to the littl e fumi ng im pat ient crea tur e ; ' Madame wi ll b e
far safe r c los e athan d  whil e th e  p urs u it an d se a rch are g o in g o n .  B ut
she must n o t s tay h ere 
 the_poor
young thing's_buoyant hopefulness and absence_of all_fear_seemed to_the
old_woman especially sad,_and like a_sort of want of_comprehension of
the full_peril_in which she stood.

Not till near dawn was Eustacie startled from her rest by_approaching
steps._'Nurse, is_all_ready?'_she cried. 'Can we set_off? Are the horses
there?'

'No, my_child; it_is but my good man and Martin who_would_speak with
you. Do_not hasten. There is nothing amiss as yet.'

'Oh, nurse,'_cried Eustacie, as she quickly arranged_the dress in_which
she_had_lain down, 'the dear_old farm always makes me sleep_well. This
is the first time I_have had no dream of the whirling_wheel and fiery
gates! Oh, is it_a token that HE is_indeed at_rest? I am so well,_so
strong. I can_ride anywhere_now. Let them_come in and tell me.'

Martin was_a younger, brisker,_cleverer man than Blaise, and besides
being_a_vassal of the_young_Lady,_was a_sort of agent_to_whom the_Abbess
instructed_many of the matters of husbandry_regarding_the convent lands.
He stood, like Blaise, bareheaded_as he talked to_little_Lady, and heard
her somewhat_peremptorily demand why they had_not brought the horses and
men for_her escort.

It_was impossible_that night, explained Martin. Time was needed to bring
in the farm-horses,_and summon the other peasants, without_whom the
roads were unsafe_in these_times_of disorder. He_and_Blaise must_go
round and warn them to be ready._A man_could not be ready in a_wink
of the eye, as_Madame_seemed to think, and the two_peasants looked
impenetrable in stolidity.

'Laggards that you_are!' cried Eustacie, petulantly, clasping_her_hands;
'and_meantime all will be lost._They will be upon me!'

'Not so,_Madame. It is_therefore that I came here,' said Martin,
deferentially,_to_the little fuming impatient creature; 'Madame_will_be
far safer close at hand while_the_pursuit_and search are going on._But
she must not stay here