Adamas had yielded instinctively to that gentle influence, and the rudest servants in the barnyard had yielded to it no less. Such rough natures were oftentimes so kindly! Was it not of such that Madame de Sévigné wrote that there were "peasants whose hearts were straighter than straight lines, loving virtue as naturally as horses trot?" But D'Alvimar, not being fond of innocence, was not fond of children, and this one in particular caused in him a sense of discomfort which he could not understand. He had a shuddering, dizzy sensation, as if the portcullis had fallen upon his head as he was returning to the château of Briantes, more tranquil and less dejected than when he went forth. He had been subject for some years to these sudden attacks of vertigo, and he readily attributed to the faces that happened to be before him at such times a phenomenon the cause of which was really in himself. He believed in mysterious influences, and, to avert them, he denied and cursed inwardly with great warmth the persons who seemed possessed of that occult power. "May that big horse break your neck!" he muttered, as he raised two fingers of his left hand, under his cloak, to exorcise the evil eye. He repeated that cabalistic gesture when he saw the Moorish woman coming toward him across the courtyard. She stopped for a moment, and, as on the preceding day, gazed at him with an earnestness which irritated him. "What do you want with me?" he demanded abruptly, walking toward her. She made no reply, but, courtesying to him, hurried to her child, alarmed to see him on horseback. The marquis came forward with Lucilio Giovellino, to meet his guest. "Pray, come and eat," he said to him; "you must be dying of hunger! Bellinde is in despair because she did not see you go out this morning, and consequently allowed you to take your walk without breaking your fast." Monsieur d'Alvimar thought it best not to mention his visit to the vicarage and his breakfast there. He dilated upon the rural beauty of the neighborhood, and on the soft, bright autumn morning. "Yes," said Bois-Doré, "we shall have several days of it, for the sun----" He was interrupted by a piercing shriek outside the enclosure, and ran as fast as he could to the bridge, whither D'Alvimar had preceded him and Lucilio instinctively followed him. They saw the Moorish woman on the edge of the moat, holding out her arms in an agony of fear toward her child, whom the huge horse was bearing down stream, and she was apparently on the point of throwing herself in from the elevated point where she stood. XV This is what had happened.