And, in fact, he was quite at his ease, and was soon gently warmed in the back by two projections which rubbed against it, and at last seemed as though they wished to imprint themselves between his shoulder blades, which would have been a pity, as that was not the place for this white merchandise.  By degrees the movement of mule brought into conjunction the internal warmth of these two good riders, and their blood coursed more quickly through their veins, seeing that it felt the motion of the mule as well as their own; and thus the good wench and the vicar finished by knowing each other’s thoughts, but not those of the mule.  When they were both acclimatised, he with her and she with him, they felt an internal disturbance which resolved itself into secret desires.

“Ah!” said the vicar, turning round to his companion, “here is a fine cluster of trees which has grown very thick.”

“It is too near the road,” replied the girl.  “Bad boys have cut the branches, and the cows have eaten the young leaves.”

“Are you not married?” asked the vicar, trotting his animal again.

“No,” said she.

“Not at all?”

“I’faith!  No!”

“What a shame, at your age!”

“You are right, sir; but you see, a poor girl who has had a child is a bad bargain.”

Then the good vicar taking pity on such ignorance, and knowing that the canons say among other things that pastors should indoctrinate their flock and show them the duties and responsibilities of this life, he thought he would only be discharging the functions of his office by showing her the burden she would have one day to bear.  Then he begged her gently not be afraid, for if she would have faith in his loyalty no one should ever know of the marital experiment which he proposed then and there to perform with her; and as, since passing Ballan the girl had thought of nothing else; as her desire had been carefully sustained, and augmented by the warm movements of the animal, she replied harshly to the vicar, “if you talk thus I will get down.”  Then the good vicar continued his gentle requests so well that on reaching the wood of Azay the girl wished to get down, and the priest got down there too, for it was not across a horse that this discussion could be finished.  Then the virtuous maiden ran into the thickest part of the wood to get away from the vicar, calling out, “Oh, you wicked man, you shan’t know where I am.”

The mule arrived in a glade where the grass was good, the girl tumbled down over a root and blushed.  The good vicar came to her, and there as he had rung the bell for mass he went through the service for her, and both freely discounted the joys of paradise.  The good priest had it in his heart to thoroughly instruct her, and found his pupil very docile, as gentle in mind as soft in the flesh, a perfect jewel.  Therefore was he much aggrieved at having so much abridged the lessons by giving it at Azay, seeing that he would have been quite willing to recommence it, like all of precentors who say the same thing over and over again to their pupils.