Then came dinner. It was towards the middle of this meal that Godfrey began to feel very ill at ease. He fidgeted, he looked towards the door, he half rose and sat down again.
"Do you perchance wish to go out?" asked the Pasteur, who was keeping him under constant observation.
"What of it if he does?" interrupted Madame. "Did not Monsieur Godfrey inform us that he was unwell? Go then, Monsieur Godfrey."
"No, not so," said the Pasteur. "Remain seated. In one minute I will be ready to accompany you."
"Mon Dieu! what for?" exclaimed Madame. "Never did I hear of such a thing," while even Juliette looked amazed.
Meanwhile Godfrey had risen and was making for the door, with a fixed and sickly smile upon his face. The Pasteur swallowed down his vin ordinaire and rushed after him.
"He is ill," said Juliette, with sympathy, "all day he has looked strange."
"Perhaps," said Madame. "That sermon of your father's was enough to turn anybody's stomach, with his talk about devils and witches. But why cannot he leave him alone? A doctor in such a case perhaps, but a clergyman----! Mon Dieu! there they go, the two of them walking towards the woods. What a strange idea! And your father has Monsieur Godfrey by the arm, although assuredly he is not faint for he pulls ahead as though in a great hurry. They must be mad, both of them. I have half a mind----"
"No, no, Mother," said Juliette. "Leave them alone. Doubtless in time they will return. Perhaps it has something to do with the stars."
"Silly girl! Stars at midday!"
"Well, Mamma, you know they are always there even if one cannot see them."
"Nonsense, child. They only come at night. The question is--where are those two going?"
Juliette shook her head and gave it up, and so perforce did her mother.