That damsel lay awake for a considerable time. She soon made up her mind to get as much as she could out of her cousin Genta. It was evident that a catechising ordeal awaited her, to the end of discovering a supposed Christian lover; but feeling her conscience quite clear on that count, Belasez was only disturbed at the possible revelation of her change of faith. She could, however, honestly satisfy Abraham that she had not received baptism. But two points puzzled and deeply interested her. How much had she better say about Bruno?--and, what was this mysterious point which they were afraid she might guess--which seemed to have some unaccountable reference to herself? If Anegay were her sister, as she could no longer doubt, why should her conduct in some way reflect upon Belasez? Suppose Anegay had married a Christian--as she thought most likely from the allusions, and which she knew would be in her parents' eyes disgrace of the deepest dye--or even if Anegay had herself become a Christian, which was a shade worse still,--yet what had that to do with Belasez, and why should it make her so anxious to go back to the Christians? Then, as to Bruno,--Belasez was conscious in her heart that she loved him very dearly, though her affection was utterly unmingled with any thoughts of matrimony. She would have thought old Hamon as eligible for a husband, when he patted her on the head with a patriarchal benediction. It was altogether a friendly and daughterly class of feeling with which she regarded Father Bruno. But would Abraham enter into that? Was it wise to tell him? Thinking and planning, Belasez fell asleep. The ordeal did not come off immediately. It seemed to Belasez as if her father would gladly have avoided it altogether; but she was tolerably sure that her mother would not allow him much peace till it was done. "Delecresse," she said, the first time she was alone with her brother, "had we ever a sister?" "Never, to my knowledge," said Delecresse, looking as if he wondered what had put that notion into her head. Evidently he knew nothing. Genta, who was constantly coming in and out, for her home was in the same short street, dropped in during the evening, and Belasez carried her off to her own little bed-chamber, which was really a goodsized closet, on the pretext of showing her some new embroidery. "Genta," she said, "tell me when my sister died." "Thy sister, Belasez?" Genta's expression was one of most innocent perplexity. "Hadst thou ever a sister?" "Had I not?" "I never heard of one." "Think, Genta I was she not called Anegay?" Genta's shake of the head was decided enough to settle any question, but Belasez fancied she caught a momentary flash in her eyes which was by no means a negation. But Belasez did not hear a few sentences that were uttered before Genta left the house. "Aunt Licorice, what has Belasez got in her head?" "Nay, what has she, Genta?"