“Good-evening, Claudet!” said the cure, without moving from his work; “you find me busy preparing my nets; if you will permit me, I will continue, for I should like to have my two hundred traps finished by this evening.  The season is advancing, you know!  The birds will begin their migrations, and I should be greatly provoked if I were not equipped in time for the opportune moment.  And how is Monsieur de Buxieres?  I trust he will not be less good-natured than his deceased cousin, and that he will allow me to spread my snares on the border hedge of his woods.  But,” added he, as he noticed the flurried, impatient countenance of his visitor, “I forgot to ask you, my dear young fellow, to what happy chance I owe your visit?  Excuse my neglect!”

“Don’t mention it, Monsieur le Cure.  You have guessed rightly.  It is a very happy circumstance which brings me.  I am about to marry.”

“Aha!” laughed the Abbe, “I congratulate you, my dear young friend.  This is really delightful news.  It is not good for man to be alone, and I am glad to know you must give up the perilous life of a bachelor.  Well, tell me quickly the name of your betrothed.  Do I know her?”

“Of course you do, Monsieur le Cure; there are few you know so well.  It is Mademoiselle Vincart.”

“Reine?”

The Abbe flung away the pruning-knife and branch that he was cutting, and gazed at Claudet with a stupefied air.  At the same time, his jovial face became shadowed, and his mouth assumed an expression of consternation.

“Yes, indeed, Reine Vincart,” repeated Claudet, somewhat vexed at the startled manner of his reverence; “are you surprised at my choice?”

“Excuse me-and-is it all settled?” stammered the Abbe, with bewilderment, “and—­and do you really love each other?”

“Certainly; we agree on that point; and I have come here to arrange with you about having the banns published.”

“What! already?” murmured the cure, buttoning and unbuttoning the top of his coat in his agitation, “you seem to be in a great hurry to go to work.  The union of the man and the woman—­ahem—­is a serious matter, which ought not to be undertaken without due consideration.  That is the reason why the Church has instituted the sacrament of marriage.  Hast thou well considered, my son?”

“Why, certainly, I have reflected,” exclaimed Claudet with some irritation, “and my mind is quite made up.  Once more, I ask you, Monsieur le Cure, are you displeased with my choice, or have you anything to say against Mademoiselle Vincart?”

“I? no, absolutely nothing.  Reine is an exceedingly good girl.”

“Well, then?”

“Well, my friend, I will go over to-morrow and see your fiancee, and we will talk matters over.  I shall act for the best, in the interests of both of you, be assured of that.  In the meantime, you will both be united this evening in my prayers; but, for to-day, we shall have to stop where we are.  Good-evening, Claudet!  I will see you again.”