If you will kindly open the gate and guide me to the street, I shall be much obliged to you." The gate swung outward, and in a moment Maurice was on dry land, or the next thing to it, which was the boat-dock.
"Thank you," he said.
"O! And you might have been drowned," compassion lighting her beautiful eyes.

"Sit down on the bench, Monsieur, for you must be weak.

And it was that sunken pier?
I shall speak to Monseigneur; he must have it removed.

Bull, stop growling; you are very impolite; the gentleman is in distress." Maurice sat down, not because he was weak, but because the desire to gain the street had suddenly subsided.

Who was this girl who could say "must" to the formidable prelate?
His quick eye noticed that she showed no sign of embarrassment.