My Guardian Angel by Sylvie Weil Page A

thought; after all, she was born and brought up in Troyes. This morning, however, she feels as if she is venturing into foreign territory.
Enemy territory,
she thinks to herself. Just this morning Judah ben Nathan has begun to speak to her again! If he finds out about this latest adventure, he will be displeased once more! But does she have a choice?
    Marguerite, still holding on to Elvina’s arm, throws her a mischievous glance. “I heard that the other day you took care of a young Crusader called Gauthier. He’s good-looking, don’t you think?”
    â€œI have no idea,” replies Elvina, trying to sound calm.
    â€œAm I supposed to think that you looked at nothing but his leg?” hints Marguerite.
    â€œI was terrified! They had captured Samuel and Yom Tov.”
    â€œThey only did it for a laugh,” replies Marguerite. “You take these things too seriously.”
    Elvina does not reply. Her heart is beating so hard that she feels certain Marguerite must hear it. She tells herself to calm down. After all, Marguerite is sweet-natured and kind, even if she does like a joke. The voice inside Elvina continues, trying to reassure her.
You can stay at their house just a few minutes — long enough to say hello to Jeanne. There’s nothing to be afraid of.

XIV
    Marguerite’s house stands on a large farm- yard. Clucking hens run hither and thither, and grunting pigs root around in a pile of rubbish. Marguerite’s mother and the ser- vant are stacking logs and kindling, their skirts gath- ered up in their belts. Two geese cackle threateningly toward Elvina, their open beaks ready to bite. Elvina has a hard time pushing them away. She swings her basket at them, but they duck their long necks to avoid it, then stretch up again and come rushing back at her. Marguerite’s mother and the servant have stopped their work to observe the scene. They are screaming with laughter. “Do our geese scare you, Elvina?”
    â€œYour geese are worse than dogs!” Elvina retorts.
    The two women stand with their hands on their hips and laugh harder. “They don’t recognize you anymore,” jokes Marguerite’s mother. “It isn’t nice to neglect us so, especially since you have always been at home on our farm. Jeanne will give you some fresh curd cheese; we have two big pots full. And if you fancy it, you can drink some of the whey. I remember how much you liked that when you were little. Tell me, is your grandfather, Solomon ben Isaac, in good health?”
    â€œHe’s fine, thank God.”
    â€œI’m glad to hear it. We haven’t seen him for a long time, and we miss him.” Marguerite’s mother has a pleasant voice. Some of her front teeth are missing, and this gives her a slight lisp, which adds to the softness of her speech.
    Elvina’s anxiety melts away. She no longer sees any reason to hurry. The faces around her are familiar and reassuring, and there is no trace of Crusaders. The farmer’s family is making her feel welcome; they have asked about her grandfather and are offering her the whey she loves to drink so much. It is as if nothing has ever happened, as if Peter the Hermit, the Crusaders, and all the fear has been just a bad dream. Here life goes on as usual, with its background of peaceful grunting pigs, hissing geese, and clucking hens.
    Marguerite has already rushed into the house. “Jeanne, Jeanne, guess who I’ve brought home? Your friend Elvina!”
    â€œElvina! I’m so happy!” Jeanne cries.
    Inside, the room is as hot and dark as an oven. Jeanne runs over to Elvina and hugs her. She is holding a long willow stem. “Come and see the pretty baskets Marie and I are weaving.”
    In the darkness, Elvina can hardly make out Marie, the youngest of the three sisters, who is kneeling next to the stove. Marie nods at Elvina without putting down her work. Near her on a stool stands a