It was hard for me to broach the subject uppermost in my mind. Twice my lips parted to open the discussion, but each time the sentence which followed related to an entirely different matter. So for quite a while we talked of the weather, the crops, the parish, and it was while we were discussing the neighborhood that I knew my opportunity had arrived. "I have become very much interested in the family at Lizard Point. You know them well?" "Vair well. Madame is vair releegious; a good woman. M'sieu is--is--indeef'rent; ma'm'selle--ah, ze young ma'm'selle!" Again his spread hands went out expressively, and he shook his head with wrinkled forehead. Inwardly I smiled, but outwardly my face was set to decorous lines. "Does not the granddaughter belong to your fold?" I asked. "Ah! m'sieu; we try. We try all her life lon' to make her ze Christian. But she wil'--she wil' as ze bird in ze wood. She an' ze half crazy Jeff--ze fiddle player--zey heazen, m'sieu. Zey never dark ze door of ze church. Zey run in ze fores', fiddlin' an' dancin', an' ze devil he laugh an' skip by zey side!" He put his hands between his knees, palm to palm, and rocked to and fro in genuine distress. I could think of no suitable reply on the moment, so remained silent. "I have ze pity for ze chil', poor sing!" he resumed, presently. "Ze chance she has not had, like ozzer ones. Meybe ze curse of ze broke' law follow her; I don' know--I don' know!" He sighed, and let his narrow shoulders droop forward in an attitude both sad and pensive. "Tell me about that if you can, Father John," I said, placing my elbows on the table's edge and leaning toward him. "I will say to you in strictest confidence that I am deeply interested in Lessie; it is not idle curiosity which prompts me to ask this. I know her father betrayed and deserted her mother; Gran'fer has practically admitted this to me, but he will go no further. You must know the man's name--what was it?" Father John lifted his head and looked at me. "Zat, m'sieu, I cannot tell you." "Why?" I kept my eyes fastened on his persistently, but respectfully. "Because m'sieu has not ze right to as'." I felt rebuked. Knowing as little of me and of my feelings for the Dryad as he did, he was right. Should I tell him more? My words would be safe with this gentle old man. "Suppose I love the girl, Father John? Would I not then have the right to know everything about her parentage?" A pale smile passed over his thin lips. "M'sieu--jokes wiz me. You, ze gen'leman, ze areest'crat--to love ze little wil' ma'm'selle? _Je crois que non!_" "It may seem incredible to you, but I do love her. I feel I can trust you with the secret, for even she does not know it yet. Believe me, I beg you. I am very much in earnest." The doubting look faded from the priest's face, to be succeeded by one of amazement.