 house. The
questing Brother Francois--plague upon him!--has taken it into his head
to drop in to breakfast. I longed to give him the cold shoulder, but it
might have brought suspicion down.'

'Right, good woman,' said Martin; 'but what shall Madame do? It is broad
way, and no longer safe to run the lanes!'

'Give me a distaff,' said Eustacie, rising to the occasion; 'I will go
to that bushy field, and herd the cows.'

Madame was right, the husband and wife unwillingly agreed. There, in her
peasant dress, in the remote field, sloping up into a thick wood, she
was unlikely to attract attention; and though the field was bordered on
one side by the lane leading to the road to Paris, it was separated from
it by a steep bank, crowned by one of the thick hedgerows characteristic
of the Bocage.

Here, then, they were forced to leave her, seated on a stone beneath a
thorn-bush, distaff in hand, with bread, cheese, and a pitcher of milk
for her provisions, and three or four cows grazing before her. From
the higher ground below the wood of ash and hazel, she could see the
undulating fields and orchards, a few houses, and that inhospitable
castle of her own.

She had spent many a drearier day in the convent than this, in the free
sun and air, with the feeling of liberty, and unbounded hopes founded
on this first success. She told her beads diligently, trusting that the
tale of devotions for her husband's spirit would be equally made up in
the field as in the church, and intently all day were her ears and
eyes on the alert. Once Lucette visited her, to bring her a basin of
porridge, and to tell her that all the world at the convent was in
confusion, that messengers had been sent out in all directions, and that
M. le Chevalier had ridden out himself in pursuit; but they should soon
hear all about it, for Martin was pretending to be amongst the busiest,
and he would know how to turn them away. Again, much later in the day,
Martin came striding across the field,
house. The 
 questing Brother Francois -- plague upon him!--has taken it into his capitulum 
 to shed in to breakfast. I longed to render him the cold shoulder, but it 
 might have bring suspicion down.' 

' Right, adept womanhood,' said Martin;' but what shall Madame make? It is broad 
 way, and no longer dependable to run the lanes!' 

' Give me a distaff,' said Eustacie, arise to the occasion;' I will go 
 to that bushy field, and herd the cattle.' 

 Madame was right, the husband and wife unwillingly agreed. There, in her 
 peasant dress, in the outback field, sloping up into a thick wood, she 
 was improbable to attract attention; and though the field was bordered on 
 one side by the lane leading to the road to Paris, it was separate from 
 it by a steep bank, crowned by one of the thick hedgerows characteristic 
 of the Bocage. 

 Here, then, they were pull to leave her, seated on a stone beneath a 
 thorn - bush, distaff in hand, with bread, cheese, and a pitcher of milk 
 for her provisions, and three or four cows grazing before her. From 
 the high ground below the wood of ash and hazel, she could visit the 
 undulating airfield and orchards, a few houses, and that inhospitable 
 castle of her own. 

 She had spent many a drearier day in the convent than this, in the free 
 sun and tune, with the feeling of liberty, and unbounded hopes founded 
 on this first achiever. She told her beads diligently, trusting that the 
 tale of devotions for her husband's spirit would be equally reach up in 
 the field as in the church, and intently all day were her ears and 
 eyes on the alarm. Once Lucette visited her, to bring her a basin of 
 porridge, and to tell her that all the world at the convent was in 
 confusion, that messengers had been sent out in all directions, and that 
 M. le Chevalier had ridden out himself in pastime; but they should soon 
 hear wholly about it, for Martin was pretending to be amongst the busiest, 
 and he would know how to turn them away. Again, a lot later in the day, 
 Martin came striding across the field,
 hokse. The
questing Brother Nrancois--plague ukob him!--hes takeh it intu his head
to drop in to breanfqst. I longed to give him thd cold shlulder, byt iu
might have brougif suspignon dkan.'

'Riyhv, good woman,' sald Martin; 'bgt what shall Kaaale do? It is broad
way, and no longer fafe to rkn the lanes!'

'Gide mt a disfaff,' said Eustacie, rising to the odcasion; 'I will go
to yhat bushy field, and herd hhe fows.'

Madame was rigjt, the husbqnd wbd wife unwiulingly aggzed. There, ih her
peasant dress, in the remotd fiekd, sloping up ijjo a thick wiod, sre
was unlikely to atdract aytention; and tmough thw field was bordered mn
one side by the jane leadhny to the road to Pariw, ut wav se[aragwd wroj
iv bg a stfep bank, crowhed by one if the thick hedgerpwf characteristjc
of tre Bocage.

Here, then, they were forced to ledve her, seated on a stone veneath a
thorn-bush, didtaff in rand, with bread, cheese, and a pitcher of milk
for har prkxisnins, ave hhree or four cows grazing before her. From
the gibhvr ground below tme wood of ash and hwzrj, she could sge the
uusumating fields and lrchardf, a fww houses, and that inhospitable
castle of her own.

She kad spent many a dreaxier day in che comvent than this, in the free
sbn and air, with tje feelinf of liberty, and jnbputded hoptr founded
on this sirst sucress. Xhe tola het beads diligentlj, trusting that the
tale lf derotiots for her husband's spirit would be equally made up in
tne fivld as in the ghurch, and integtly all day wgre her ecrs ana
eyes on tge alerv. Once Lucetee visited hes, to bring hec a basin of
pirriege, and go tell her thst all thv corld at rhe convent was in
gonfurjon, that messenytrs had been sent put in apl dysections, and thag
M. ur Chexalier had vidaen put himself in pursuht; bht they should soom
hcar all avout it, sor Martin wax pretending to be amonjst thx busirst,
wnd he would know how to turn fhem away. Agwin, much latqr ik thg day,
Martin came striding across the field,
house. The questing Brother Francois--plague upon him!--has into head to in to breakfast. the shoulder, but it have brought suspicion 'Right, good woman,' said Martin; 'but shall Madame do? It is broad way, and no longer safe to run lanes!' 'Give me a distaff,' said Eustacie, rising to the occasion; 'I will to bushy and the cows.' Madame was right, the husband and wife unwillingly agreed. There, in her peasant dress, the remote field, sloping up into a thick she was unlikely to attention; and though the field bordered one side the leading the road to it was separated from it by a steep bank, crowned by one of the thick hedgerows characteristic the Bocage. they were to her, on a stone thorn-bush, distaff in hand, with bread, pitcher of milk for her provisions, and three four cows before her. From the higher ground the wood of ash and hazel, she could the undulating fields and orchards, a few houses, and that inhospitable castle of her own. spent many a drearier in the convent this, the sun air, with feeling of liberty, and unbounded hopes founded on this first success. told her beads diligently, trusting that the tale of devotions husband's would be equally up in the field in church, and intently all her and alert. Lucette her, to bring her basin of porridge, and to her that all the in confusion, that messengers had been sent out all directions, and that M. le Chevalier ridden out himself in pursuit; but they should soon hear all about for Martin to be amongst the busiest, and he would how to turn them Again, much later in the day, Martin came striding the
 house. The
questing Brother FrAncois--plagUe upoN hiM!--haS tAken It inTo his head
to droP In to Breakfast. I longed to give Him thE cOLd shOUlDer, buT it
mighT HaVE BroUgHt SusPiCIoN down.'

'rigHt, good wOman,' said MaRtiN; 'bUt what shall MADaMe do? It is brOad
Way, and no longEr sAfe to rUn The LAnes!'

'GIve Me a diStaff,' sAId EustAcie, risinG tO The occASion; 'I wiLL Go
To thAt bushy field, and heRD tHE cows.'

Madame was Right, tHe HUsBANd aNd wIfe unwilliNgLy agrEEd. There, IN hER
PEasANt dress, in the rEmote field, sLOpiNg up inTo A thICk wood, She
waS uNLikEly to attracT attEntion; and Though THe field WAs bordeRed on
oNe sIde By thE LaNe LeaDiNG to THe RoaD To PAris, it waS sEpArateD froM
IT BY a stEep Bank, CrownEd by one of the tHicK hedGEroWs chaRacteRistIc
Of the bocage.

here, tHeN, they were forced To leAve her, seaTed On A stOnE beneATh a
thoRn-bUsh, Distaff In hand, wITh bReAD, CHeEse, and a pitcher of miLk
FOR hEr provisIons, anD ThReE Or four coWs GraZing BEFore hEr. FrOM
tHe higher Ground BElOw The wood Of Ash and HaZel, She Could SEe thE
undulAting fieLds anD Orchards, a few hoUSes, and that inhOSpITAbLE
casTle Of her own.

She Had sPEnt mAny a DReAriER day iN the cOnVEnT Than this, in the free
suN aNd air, wIth thE feeling of libErty, and unbOUNDed hopes FounDEd
ON this first succEss. ShE told her beADs diligeNtly, tRusting tHat the
talE OF devotioNs fOr hEr hUsbAND's Spirit would be EQUallY mAde up in
The Field as In tHe cHurCh, aNd Intently aLl day werE hEr EaRs And
Eyes oN The alert. onCe LUcEttE visiTEd her, tO brinG her A bAsIN of
PorridgE, AnD TO telL hEr That All ThE worlD at tHE coNvent waS in
confusIon, THat mEsSeNgers haD been sent out iN aLl directioNs, And That
M. lE cHevalier Had ridden out himself in puRSuit; but TheY shouLd soOn
hear all AboUt it, foR MaRTin was PretenDing tO bE amONGst thE BUsIesT,
aNd he would kNOW hoW to tuRn Them Away. AgaIn, much later in the daY,
marTin came stridiNg aCrosS THe FieLD,
 house. The
questing Broth er Francoi s--pl agu e u po n hi m!-- has taken it i n to h is head
to drop in tobreak fa s t. I lo ngedto give hi m the  c ol d s ho u ld er, b utit
migh t have bro ugh tsuspicion do w n. '

'Right,  go od woman,' s aid  Marti n;  'b u t wha t s hallMadame do? It  is broad 
w a y, and no long e r  s afeto run the lanes! ' 
' Give me a dist aff,'sa i dE u sta cie , rising t othe o c casion; 'I w i llg o
to that bus hy field, a n d h erd th ecow s .'

Ma damewa s  ri ght, the hu sban d and wif e unwi l linglya greed.There,  in  he r
pe a sa nt  dr es s , i n  t her emo te field ,sl oping  upi n t o  a t hic k wo od, s he
was unlike lyto a t tra ct at tenti on;an d tho ugh th e fie ld  was bordered o n
on e side by  th elan eleadi n g to t heroa d to Pa ris, it was  s e p a ra ted from
it by a s te e p  b ank, cro wned b y  o ne of the t hi ckhedg e r ows c hara c te ristic
o f theB oc ag e.

Her e,  then,  t hey  we re fo r cedto lea ve her,seate d  on a stone be n eath a
thorn- b us h ,  d i staf f i n hand, wit h br e ad,chee s e,  an d  a pi tcher  o f  m i lk
for her provisio ns , andthree  or four cows  grazing b e f o re her.From th e  higher ground  belo w the wood of ash a nd ha zel, she  could se e the
undu lat ing  fi eld s an d orchards, a f ew h ou ses, an d t hat inh osp ita ble 
ca st le of her  own.

S he  h ad  s pen t man y  a drear ie r d ay  in  thec onvent  than  thi s,  i n  th e frees un a nd a ir ,with  th efeeli ng o f  li berty,and unbou nde d  hop es  f oundedon this first  s uccess. Sh etol d herb e ads dili gently, trusting that t h e
taleofdevot ions  for herhus band's  sp i rit wo uld be  equa ll y m a d e upi n 
t hefi eld as int h e c hurch ,andintentl y all day were her ear s and
eyes on  th e al e r t.  On c eL uce tt e  vi s i ted her, to bri ng her a b as i nof
porridg e , a nd  to tel l her t hat a l l the w orld at t he conven twasi n 
co nfusion, t hat mess engers ha d  been se nt ou t i n alldi rec tions , andt hat 
M. l e Chev al ier ha d rid de n out hi mself in pursuit; but t hey sh ouldsoo n
hear al l a b out  it, forMart in was pre ten din g tobea mongs t th e  b usi e st,
a nd h e  would kn o whow t oturn them a w a y . A gain,  mu c h late r in  the day,
Martinc ame striding a cros s the  fi e ld,
 house._The
questing Brother_Francois--plague upon him!--has taken_it into_his_head
to drop_in_to breakfast. I_longed to give_him the cold shoulder,_but it
might have_brought_suspicion down.'

'Right, good woman,' said Martin; 'but what shall Madame do? It is broad
way,_and_no longer_safe_to_run the lanes!'

'Give me a_distaff,' said Eustacie, rising to_the occasion;_'I will go
to that bushy field, and herd_the_cows.'

Madame was right,_the husband and wife unwillingly agreed. There, in her
peasant_dress, in the remote field, sloping_up into a_thick_wood,_she
was unlikely to attract_attention; and though the field was_bordered on
one side by the lane_leading to the road to Paris, it_was separated from
it by a steep_bank, crowned by one of_the thick_hedgerows characteristic
of the Bocage.

Here, then,_they were forced_to leave_her, seated on_a stone beneath a
thorn-bush, distaff in_hand, with bread,_cheese, and a pitcher of milk
for_her_provisions, and three_or_four_cows grazing_before her. From
the_higher_ground below_the_wood of ash and hazel, she_could_see the
undulating fields and orchards, a few_houses, and that inhospitable
castle_of_her own.

She had spent_many a drearier day in_the convent than this, in the_free
sun and_air, with_the feeling of liberty, and unbounded hopes founded
on this first success._She told her beads diligently, trusting_that the
tale of devotions_for her_husband's_spirit would be_equally_made up_in
the field as in the church, and_intently all_day were her ears and
eyes on_the alert. Once Lucette_visited_her, to bring her a basin_of
porridge, and to tell her that_all the world at the_convent_was_in
confusion, that messengers had been_sent out in all directions, and_that
M. le Chevalier_had ridden out himself in pursuit; but_they_should soon
hear all about it, for_Martin_was pretending to be amongst the_busiest,
and_he_would know how to turn_them away. Again, much later in_the day,
Martin came striding across the field,