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Then come two charges which we shall translate literally. "To the sieur de Lis, 18th October, 1436, for a journey which he made through the said city while on his way to the Maid, who was then at Erlon in Luxembourg, and for carrying letters from Jeanne the Maid to the King at Loicher, where he was then staying, six livres."

Many members of the families of Lemoine and St. Ange entered; also the celebrated Marie Barbier of the Assumption and Sisters Dennis, Bourbo, Jousset, etc., more than forty being received in less than two years. We should also add the name of Jeanne Leber, who became afterwards the famous recluse, of whom more anon, with many others quite remarkable for sanctity from the beginning.

"He was late," she said, picking out her few English words from memory. "Yuss," grinned Mo. "He guard house?" "Bless you, miss, you talk English as well as I do," cried the admiring Mo. "Yuss. When his turn comes, up and down in the street, by the gate." He saw her puzzled look. "Roo. Port," said he. "Ah! oui, je comprends," smiled Jeanne. "Merci, monsieur, et bon soir."

Jeanne, who had left the convent the day before, free at last and ready for all the happiness of a life of which she had dreamed for so long, feared that her father would hesitate about starting if the weather did not clear up, and, for the hundredth time since the morning, she studied the horizon. Looking round, she saw that she had forgotten to put her almanac in her traveling bag.

The baroness began to cry, and the big man said: "Come, come, madame le baronne; I assure you there is no longer any danger, but you must not talk to her; just let her sleep." It seemed to Jeanne that she lay for a long time in a doze, which became a heavy sleep if she tried to think of anything.

"I should like," he said to Jeanne, "to introduce you to my friend. You have met him before down at the Red Hall, and on the island, but that scarcely counts. Westerham, this is Miss Le Mesurier. You remember that you saw her at Salthouse." The Duke shook hands with the girl, looking at her attentively. His manner was kind, but his eyes seemed to be questioning her all the time.

There were twenty men employed in it. It paid well then. But it's all over now. The man who worked it found a little bit of rubbish in his way, and, like a fool, he got frightened and left working it, and now you see it's full of water. Are the clothes ready?" This was said, or rather shouted to the servant. "Yes, Sir, they're ready; I'm coming," said Jeanne. "It's time," said Mr.

"Swear it," she said. "Yes, mamma." "You want to stay here, don't you?" "Yes, mamma." Then the baron spoke up loud and decidedly: "Jeanne, you have no right to make disposition of this life. What you are doing is cowardly and almost criminal; you are sacrificing your child to your own private happiness."

There was a titter among the girls. Never had Jeanne looked prouder or handsomer, and Cecile's broad nose distended with anger while her lips were purple. She was larger but she did not dare attack Jeanne, for she knew the nature and the prowess of the tiger cat. "Let us go home; it gets late," cried one of the girls, turning her companion about.

The few women who had children took them home with them; the other women, young and old, following like a holiday flotilla in the wake of Mère Jeanne, tacked through the muck of the road to the warehouse; many of the younger and some few of the older men followed them; and in the house of Père Marquette, in the yellow light of a half dozen kerosene lamps and many tall candles, the real affair of the evening began.