changed before my eyes, the element of water became glorified, in the fire, in the light of the church tapers as well as that of the house, I perceived and recognised the whole tenor of the secret of nature. The nights became too short to enable us to impart to each other all that arose in our minds. A young abbé, a mild, miracle-believing enthusiast was often the third in our consultations in the open air or within doors, and his learning, his knowledge in old legends and histories of the church gave to all our spiritual movements body and presence, yes, my friend, this rosy period of my youth was like the wedding festival of my soul, and griefs not to be named were already preparing in the midst of this enjoyment, in order to teach me how weak, how frail man is and remains." "And this abbé," exclaimed Edmond, who had scarcely heard the last words, "was he not named Aubigny?" "Exactly so," replied the pastor with much astonishment, "it seems indeed that you know all the companions of my youth." "Through the Counsellor of Parliament," answered Edmond, "who also likes to recall to his memory the season of his youth. But I pray you to continue your narrative. I fear that that Lacoste did not wish to be the fourth in your alliance." "The unfortunate man," said the priest, "who had already become so confidential with us, withdrew from us day by day, although he still continued to visit frequently the paternal dwelling. Notwithstanding that we had agreed to deal mildly with him, his derision of us excited our anger, and his coldness refused all our conciliatory endeavours. It was not predestined, that our days should flow along in peaceful, undisturbed cheerfulness.