The young girl, startled by this strange figure, or rather, by this enormous cap of bristling fur, gave a cry of affright; her brother took her hand to reassure her, and although the poor child wished to withdraw it, he advanced resolutely toward the old man. The latter stopped, struck with the beauty of these two children, and especially the delicate features of the young girl, whose face of perfect regularity was crowned with two bands of blond hair half concealed under a poor little child's cap of a brown color; she wore, like her brother, rude wooden shoes and wool stockings. "You are afraid of me then! Zounds! you will not tell me, then, where the Abbey of St. Quentin is?" said the old soldier. Although he was far from wishing to intimidate the children, the tone of his voice frightened the young girl still more, who, pressing closely to her brother, said to him in a low tone: "Answer him, James, answer him; see what a wicked air he has." "Have no fear, Angela, have no fear," answered the boy. Then he said to the soldier: "Yes, sir, this is the Abbey of St. Quentin; but if you wish to enter the porter's lodge is on the other side, outside of this court." The boy might have spoken a long time without the soldier paying attention to his words. When the young girl called her brother "James" the old man made a movement of surprise; but when James, in his turn, called his sister "Angela" the old man started, let his stick fall, and was obliged to support himself against the wall, so violent was his agitation. "You call yourselves 'James' and 'Angela,' my children?" said he, in a trembling voice. "Yes, sir," answered the young boy entirely reassured, but astonished at this question. "And your parents?" "Our parents are tenants of the abbey, sir." "Come," said the soldier, whom the reader has doubtless already recognized, "I am an old fool--but--the union of these two names--James--Angela. Come, come, Polypheme, you lose your head, my friend; because you encounter two little peasants you imagine--" he shrugged his shoulders; "it is hardly worth while to have this big white beard at one's chin only to give way to such visions! If it is to make such discoveries that you return from Moscow, Polypheme, you might just as well--have done----" While speaking thus to himself, Croustillac had examined the young girl with the greatest curiosity; more and more struck with a resemblance which seemed incomprehensible, he fastened eager eyes on Angela. The young girl again frightened, said to her brother, hiding her face behind his shoulder: "Heavens! how he frightens me, again!"