the château about an hour before I did," said the abbé gently, for the pain upon his pupil's white face stirred his very heart.
"Will you kindly leave me alone, mon père, for half an hour or so? Or, no, I will walk for a while. There is now no motive for concealment. In half an hour I will return."
"God be with you, my son, and give you strength!"
"Amen, my father."
Half an hour later the baron, returning to his little room, found an inviting supper spread, and the abbe cheerfully superintending Clotilde's last arrangements.
"Come, my son!" exclaimed he as the young girl withdrew. "Let us first of all eat; since Clotilde tells me you sent away your dinner untasted, and I have taken nothing since morning."
"As you will, mon père," replied François carelessly; but even so the priest noted that the voice had a sturdier ring and a more manly tone than he yet had heard in it, and was further rejoiced by seeing his pupil partake of Clotilde's delicacies, not with any great enjoyment certainly, but with the honest appetite of a healthy young fellow of one and twenty.
"And now, mon abbé," began the baron, pushing back his chair, "I have to bid you good-by, with many thanks for your kind hospitality here, and your greater kindness in the days past,—the days of my youth as they already seem, for the life of Montarnaud is past."
"And whither go you now, Monsieur le Baron? What are your plans, if I may ask?" inquired the abbé
