Then when the Hand of Providence had shown itself most plainly, and in a manner to melt the heart with awe and thankfulness, the message had been blurred.

Seriously the Huguenot asked himself what it portended.
To Tignonville, if he thought of it at all, the matter was the matter of an egg, and stopped there.

An egg might alleviate the growing pangs of hunger; its non-appearance was a disappointment, but he traced the matter no farther.

It must be confessed, too, that the haycart was to him only a haycart--and not an ark; and the sooner he was safely away from it the better he would be pleased.

While La Tribe, lying snug and warm beside him, thanked God for a lot so different from that of such of his fellows as had escaped--whom he pictured crouching in dank cellars, or on roof- trees exposed to the heat by day and the dews by night--the young man grew more and more restive.
Hunger pricked him, and the meanness of the part he had played moved him to action.