"I don't want to think too much of it, but there's a lot going on in the village that I don't understand. Pierre says that the men gather together with shut doors in the inn. I suppose what is going on in Orleans is affecting them. Two factories there are on strike, and the gendarmes had to come out last night, I hear. I have never had trouble with the farm-hands before, and they have been utterly unmanageable these past few weeks." Adrienne looked troubled. The next day she went to see Agatha. She heard from her that the Curé had gone away for his yearly holiday. "I wish he were here, Madame; he is generally about the village and knows all that is going on. There is something evil in our village. It wants to be discovered and rooted out. I am not one to meddle in politics, but these Bolshevists are against our Lord, and I wonder the Christian world does not rise up and exterminate them." "Why, Agatha, I have never heard you speak so scathingly before." Agatha's sweet face looked sad and stern. "I lie here and think, Madame. I know the good God permits evil for His purposes, but it is His will that we should fight it. I have many friends in the village and they come and talk to me. Lately some of them have left off coming. And those that still come have black thoughts in their hearts. I can read them, and I tell them what I see through their eyes. They look ashamed, and some slink away, and some argue. But the tares are springing up amongst the wheat and they are choking it. I weep at night over what is going on." "We must try and stop it," said Adrienne firmly. She went home and talked to her husband. Guy listened, but said little. Adrienne playfully shook him by the shoulders. "Say something, do something! I am beginning to feel again as I did when Monsieur Bouverie was in the village. As if we are surrounded by treachery! Several men to-day passed me with no recognition; they turned their heads the other way and made no response to my greeting. You are so silent, Guy. I am your wife. Let me into your thoughts." Guy put his arm round his wife, and drew her to him. "I never forget, thank God, that you are my wife. Trust me, dearest. I shall ferret out this poison and get rid of it. But I want to track it to its source. And I have to move warily." "Oh, you're very much of a man," laughed Adrienne, tilting her head back on his shoulder; "you have an overwhelming confidence in your own discretion, and a very poor opinion of your wife's. But I will not be depressed. We have weathered through a bad time here, and we'll weather through again. And I know that you are strong in your decisions, and that though you move slowly, you move surely." The next day Guy took his little son out for a ride.