I repeated my story. "You are a clear-headed little maiden," said he, "and have a quick wit. What did Simon Sablot think of the matter?" "He said, monsieur—my father," I added, correcting myself, "that the good man meant to give us a warning, and had probably made his errand on purpose." "More likely to spy out the nakedness of the land," muttered Grace, to whom all priests were alike. "Nay, my Grace, do the poor man justice," said my father. "The Jesuits cannot make the whole nation over into tigers, not even the priests. The poor old man has grown-up on our lands, as his father did before him, and I believe he feels kindly toward us. But I wish, oh I wish thou and the little one were in safety, my Marguerite." My mother said some words in English which I did not understand, and then in French, "But what shall we do, Armand, to guard against this new danger?" "We can only do as we have done in our family, but I fear we must abandon our Sunday gatherings for the present. The risk will be too great with such neighbors to spy upon us. But we will consult together. Run away now, my little one, and explore the house, only do not go into the upper rooms of the round tower. Some of the floors are dangerous. However, you may go to the battlements if you like. The stairs are safe enough." "Only return at once when you hear the bell," said my mother. "To-day shall be a holiday for you; to-morrow we will begin our lessons. But first go with Grace and let her take your measure." "Why is it so dangerous to have a hospital at Sartilly?" I ventured to ask Grace at a pause in her operations. "I thought a hospital was a place where poor sick people were taken care of." "So it is in a Christian land, mademoiselle," answered Grace; "there are many such in England. But now and here, a hospital means a place where young people of the Religion are shut up away from their parents and taught to worship images and say prayers to the Virgin and the saints—yes, pretty saints some of them," she added, in English. "There, I beg your pardon, mademoiselle. It is not good manners to speak in a foreign tongue before those who do not understand it." "Madame says she will teach me English soon," I observed. "I shall like that, if it is not too hard." "Oh, it will not be hard to you; you are half an English woman," replied Grace. "And will you tell me tales sometimes about England, and the place where my mother lived when she was a young lady? I shall like so much to hear them. I love to look at Jersey when we can see it, because it is a part of England." Grace's heart was quite won by this request. She kissed me, and called me a pretty dear in her own tongue, which phrase, of course, I did not understand, only I saw that it meant something kind and friendly.