Most of the people at that early hour were still in bed and asleep. A few, who intended to go over to the Chénière for mass, were moving about. The lovers, who had laid their plans the night before, were already strolling toward the wharf. The lady in black, with her Sunday prayerbook, velvet and gold-clasped, and her Sunday silver beads, was following them at no great distance. Old Monsieur Farival was up, and was more than half inclined to do anything that suggested itself. He put on his big straw hat, and taking his umbrella from the stand in the hall, followed the lady in black, never overtaking her.

The little negro girl who worked Madame Lebrun’s sewing-machine was sweeping the galleries with long, absentminded strokes of the broom. Edna sent her up into the house to awaken Robert.

“Tell him I am going to the Chénière . The boat is ready; tell him to hurry.”