colleague from Záluz̓í when Ferdinand came with your note, so I had not even time to think what the matter might be about.” The baroness knew already from Ferdinand that Heavens had been at Suchdol when he arrived there with her note, and she considered it open and straight forward of Ledecký not to make any secret of it.
“You have touched unawares upon the very person I wish to talk to you about,” said the baroness, “and I dare to say you will not wonder at it.”
She was silent for a moment. The priest pretended not to understand, and kept looking at her quietly, without moving an eyelash, waiting to hear what would follow.
“Father Cvok,” resumed the baroness, “received some weeks ago, I have been told, a completely strange baby into his house to take care of.”
“I beg your ladyship’s pardon for taking the liberty of making a slight correction,” said Ledecký in his turn. “It was not he, but his old housekeeper, that accepted the charge of a baby, and not an entirely strange one either, but the child of her sister’s daughter.”
“And do you, reverend sir, believe this story, which seems to have been made up clumsily enough for the ears of the country people?”
“I do believe it. Father Cvok is a simple-minded, honest man. From my long acquaintance with him I know him so well, that I can see to the very bottom of his heart, and I have no reason to doubt what I have neard from him with my own ears.”
“To-day?”
“Not to-day; he told me about it some time ago.”
“And do you consider all the rest to be empty talk,
