the country, proved to them, that in France the mines of gold or silver are not so deep as in Peru. Such a discovery was well calculated to give them additional energy; they dug with unparalleled activity, and the spoil they found in many places of concealment threw the Crœsuses of many cantons into perfect despair. The cursed cossacks! But yet the instinct which so surely led them to the spot where treasure was hidden, did not guide them to the hiding place of the Curé. It was like the blessing of heaven, each morning the sun rose and nothing new; nothing new when it set.
Most decidedly the finger of God must be recognised in the impenetrability of the mysterious inhumation performed by Moiselet. M. Senard was so fully convinced of it, that he actually mingled thanksgivings with the prayers which he made for the preservation and repose of his diamonds. Persuaded that his vows would be heard, in growing security he began to sleep more soundly, when one fine day, which was, of all days in the week, a Friday, Moiselet, more dead than alive, ran to the Curés.
"Ah, sir, I can scarcely speak."
"What's the matter, Moiselet?"
"I dare not tell you. Poor M. le Curé, this affects me deeply, I am paralyzed. If my veins were opened not a drop of blood would flow."
"What is the matter? You alarm me."
"The hole."
"Mercy! I want to learn no more. Oh, what a terrible scourge is war! Jeanneton, Jeanneton, come quickly, my shoes and hat."
"But, sir, you have not breakfasted."
"Oh, never mind breakfast."
"You know, sir, when you go out fasting you have such spasms."
"My shoes, I tell you."
"And then you complain of your stomach."
"I shall have no want of a stomach again all my life. Never any more—no, never—ruined."
