La Grande Beteche

"Ah! madame,"replied the doctor, "I have some appalling stories in my
collection. But each one has its proper hour in a conversation--you
know the pretty jest recorded by Chamfort, and said to the Duc de
Fronsac: 'Between your sally and the present moment lie tenbottles of
champagne.' "

"But it is two in the morning, and the story of Rosina hasprepared
us," said the mistress of the house.

"Tell us, Monsieur Bianchon!" was the cry on every side.

The obliging doctor bowed, and silence reigned.

"At about a hundred paces from Vendome, on the banks of theLoir,"
said he, "stands an old brown house, crowned with very highroofs, and
so completely isolated that there is nothing near it, not even afetid
tannery or a squalid tavern, such as are commonly seen outsidesmall
towns. In front of this house is a garden down to the river,where the
box shrubs, formerly clipped close to edge the walks, nowstraggle at
their own will. A few willows, rooted in the stream, have grownup
quickly like an enclosing fence, and half hide the house. Thewild
plants we call weeds have clothed the bank with their beautiful
luxuriance. The fruit-trees, neglected for these ten years past,no
longer bear a crop, and their suckers have formed a thicket. The
espaliers are like a copse. The paths, once graveled, areovergrown
with purslane; but, to be accurate there is no trace of a path.

"Looking down from the hilltop, to which cling the ruins ofthe old
castle of the Dukes of Vendome, the only spot whence the eye cansee
into this enclosure, we think that at a time, difficult now to
determine, this spot of earth must have been the joy of somecountry
gentleman devoted to roses and tulips, in a word, tohorticulture, but
above all a lover of choice fruit. An arbor is visible, or ratherthe
wreck of an arbor, and under it a table still stands not entirely
destroyed by time. At the aspect of this garden that is no more,the
negative joys of the peaceful life of the provinces may bedivined as
we divine the history of a worthy tradesman when we read theepitaph
on his tomb. To complete the mournful and tender impressionswhich
seize the soul, on one of the walls there is a sundial gracedwith
this homely Christian motto, '/Ultimam cogita/.'

"The roof of this house is dreadfully dilapidated; theoutside
shutters are always closed; the balconies are hung with swallows'
nests; the doors are for ever shut. Straggling grasses haveoutlined
the flagstones of the steps with green; the ironwork is rusty.Moon
and sun, winter, summer, and snow have eaten into the wood,warped the
boards, peeled off the paint. The dreary silence is broken onlyby
birds and cats, polecats, rats, and mice, free to scamper round,and
fight, and eat each other. An invisible hand has written over itall:
'Mystery.'

"If, prompted by curiosity, you go to look at this housefrom the
street, you will see a large gate, with a round-arched top; the
children have made many holes in it. I learned later that thisdoor
had been blocked for ten years. Through these irregular breachesyou
will see that the side towards the courtyard is in perfectharmony
with the side towards the garden. The same ruin prevails. Tuftsof
weeds outline the paving-stones; the walls are scored by enormous
cracks, and the blackened coping is laced with a thousandfestoons of
pellitory. The stone steps are disjointed; the bell-cord isrotten;
the gutter-spouts broken. What fire from heaven could have fallen
there? By what decree has salt been sown on this dwelling? HasGod
been mocked here? Or was France betrayed? These are the questionswe
ask ourselves. Reptiles crawl over it, but give no reply. Thisempty
and deserted house is a vast enigma of which the answer is knownto
none.

"It was formerly a little domain, held in fief, and is knownas La
Grande Breteche. During my stay at Vendome, where Despleins hadleft
me in charge of a rich patient, the sight of this strangedwelling
became one of my keenest pleasures. Was it not far better than aruin?
Certain memories of indisputable authenticity attach themselvesto a
ruin; but this house, still standing, though being slowlydestroyed by
an avenging hand, contained a secret, an unrevealed thought. Atthe
very least, it testified to a caprice. More than once in theevening I
boarded the hedge, run wild, which surrounded the enclosure. Ibraved
scratches, I got into this ownerless garden, this plot which wasno
longer public or private; I lingered there for hours gazing atthe
disorder. I would not, as the price of the story to which thisstrange
scene no doubt was due, have asked a single question of anygossiping
native. On that spot I wove delightful romances, and abandonedmyself
to little debauches of melancholy which enchanted me. If I hadknown
the reason--perhaps quite commonplace--of this neglect, I shouldhave
lost the unwritten poetry which intoxicated me. To me this refuge
represented the most various phases of human life, shadowed by
misfortune; sometimes the peace of the graveyard without thedead, who
speak in the language of epitaphs; one day I saw in it the homeof
lepers; another, the house of the Atridae; but, above all, Ifound
there provincial life, with its contemplative ideas, its hour-glass
existence. I often wept there, I never laughed.

"More than once I felt involuntary terrors as I heardoverhead the
dull hum of the wings of some hurrying wood-pigeon. The earth isdank;
you must be on the watch for lizards, vipers, and frogs,wandering
about with the wild freedom of nature; above all, you must haveno
fear of cold, for in a few moments you feel an icy cloak settleon
your shoulders, like the Commendatore's hand on Don Giovanni'sneck.

"One evening I felt a shudder; the wind had turned an oldrusty
weathercock, and the creaking sounded like a cry from the house,at
the very moment when I was finishing a gloomy drama to accountfor
this monumental embodiment of woe. I returned to my inn, lost in
gloomy thoughts. When I had supped, the hostess came into my roomwith
an air of mystery, and said, 'Monsieur, here is Monsieur Regnault.'

" 'Who is Monsieur Regnault?'

" 'What, sir, do you not know Monsieur Regnault?--Well,that's odd,'
said she, leaving the room.

"On a sudden I saw a man appear, tall, slim, dressed inblack, hat in
hand, who came in like a ram ready to butt his opponent, showinga
receding forehead, a small pointed head, and a colorless face ofthe
hue of a glass of dirty water. You would have taken him for anusher.
The stranger wore an old coat, much worn at the seams; but he hada
diamond in his shirt frill, and gold rings in his ears.

" 'Monsieur,' said I, 'whom have I the honor of addressing?'--Hetook
a chair, placed himself in front of my fire, put his hat on mytable,
and answered while he rubbed his hands: 'Dear me, it is very cold.--
Monsieur, I am Monsieur Regnault.'

" I was encouraging myself by saying to myself, '/Il bondocani!/
Seek!'

" 'I am,' he went on, 'notary at Vendome.'

" 'I am delighted to hear it, monsieur,' I exclaimed. 'But Iam not in
a position to make a will for reasons best known to myself.'

" 'One moment!' said he, holding up his hand as though togain
silence. 'Allow me, monsieur, allow me! I am informed that you
sometimes go to walk in the garden of la Grande Breteche.'

" 'Yes, monsieur.'

" 'One moment!' said he, repeating his gesture. 'Thatconstitutes a
misdemeanor. Monsieur, as executor under the will of the lateComtesse
de Merret, I come in her name to beg you to discontinue thepractice.
One moment! I am not a Turk, and do not wish to make a crime ofit.
And besides, you are free to be ignorant of the circumstanceswhich
compel me to leave the finest mansion in Vendome to fall intoruin.
Nevertheless, monsieur, you must be a man of education, and youshould
know that the laws forbid, under heavy penalties, any trespass on
enclosed property. A hedge is the same as a wall. But, the statein
which the place is left may be an excuse for your curiosity. Formy
part, I should be quite content to make you free to come and goin the
house; but being bound to respect the will of the testatrix, Ihave
the honor, monsieur, to beg that you will go into the garden nomore.
I myself, monsieur, since the will was read, have never set footin
the house, which, as I had the honor of informing you, is part ofthe
estate of the late Madame de Merret. We have done nothing therebut
verify the number of doors and windows to assess the taxes I haveto
pay annually out of the funds left for that purpose by the lateMadame
de Merret. Ah! my dear sir, her will made a great commotion inthe
town.'

"The good man paused to blow his nose. I respected hisvolubility,
perfectly understanding that the administration of Madame deMerret's
estate had been the most important event of his life, hisreputation,
his glory, his Restoration. As I was forced to bid farewell to my
beautiful reveries and romances, I was to reject learning thetruth on
official authority.

" 'Monsieur,' said I, 'would it be indiscreet if I were toask you the
reasons for such eccentricity?'

"At these words an expression, which revealed all thepleasure which
men feel who are accustomed to ride a hobby, overspread thelawyer's
countenance. He pulled up the collar of his shirt with an air,took
out his snuffbox, opened it, and offered me a pinch; on myrefusing,
he took a large one. He was happy! A man who has no hobby doesnot
know all the good to be got out of life. A hobby is the happymedium
between a passion and a monomania. At this moment I understoodthe
whole bearing of Sterne's charming passion, and had a perfectidea of
the delight with which my uncle Toby, encouraged by Trim,bestrode his
hobby-horse.

" 'Monsieur,' said Monsieur Regnault, 'I was head-clerk inMonsieur
Roguin's office, in Paris. A first-rate house, which you may have
heard mentioned? No! An unfortunate bankruptcy made it famous.--Not
having money enough to purchase a practice in Paris at the priceto
which they were run up in 1816, I came here and bought my
predecessor's business. I had relations in Vendome; among others,a
wealthy aunt, who allowed me to marry her daughter.--Monsieur,'he
went on after a little pause, 'three months after being licensedby
the Keeper of the Seals, one evening, as I was going to bed--itwas
before my marriage--I was sent for by Madame la Comtesse deMerret, to
her Chateau of Merret. Her maid, a good girl, who is now aservant in
this inn, was waiting at my door with the Countess' own carriage.Ah!
one moment! I ought to tell you that Monsieur le Comte de Merrethad
gone to Paris to die two months before I came here. He came to a
miserable end, flinging himself into every kind of dissipation.You
understand?

" 'On the day when he left, Madame la Comtesse had quittedla Grand
Breteche, having dismantled it. Some people even say that she had
burnt all the furniture, the hangings--in short, all the chattelsand
furniture whatever used in furnishing the premises now let by thesaid
M.--(Dear, what am I saying? I beg your pardon, I thought I was
dictating a lease.)--In short, that she burnt everything in themeadow
at Merret. Have you been to Merret, monsieur?--No,' said he,answering
himself, 'Ah, it is a very fine place.'

" 'For about three months previously,' he went on, with ajerk of his
head, 'the Count and Countess had lived in a very eccentric way;they
admitted no visitors; Madame lived on the ground-floor, andMonsieur
on the first floor. When the Countess was left alone, she wasnever
seen excepting at church. Subsequently, at home, at the chateau,she
refused to see the friends, whether gentlemen or ladies, who wentto
call on her. She was already very much altered when she left laGrande
Breteche to go to Merret. That dear lady--I say dear lady, for itwas
she who gave me this diamond, but indeed I saw her but once--thatkind
lady was very ill; she had, no doubt, given up all hope, for shedied
without choosing to send for a doctor; indeed, many of our ladies
fancied she was not quite right in her head. Well, sir, mycuriosity
was strangely excited by hearing that Madame de Merret had needof my
services. Nor was I the only person who took an interest in the
affair. That very night, though it was already late, all the townknew
that I was going to Merret.

" 'The waiting-woman replied but vaguely to the questions Iasked her
on the way; nevertheless, she told me that her mistress hadreceived
the Sacrament in the course of the day at the hands of the Cureof
Merret, and seemed unlikely to live through the night. It wasabout
eleven when I reached the chateau. I went up the great staircase.
After crossing some large, lofty, dark rooms, diabolically coldand
damp, I reached the state bedroom where the Countess lay. Fromthe
rumors that were current concerning this lady (monsieur, I should
never end if I were to repeat all the tales that were told abouther),
I had imagined her a coquette. Imagine, then, that I had great
difficulty in seeing her in the great bed where she was lying. Tobe
sure, to light this enormous room, with old-fashioned heavycornices,
and so thick with dust that merely to see it was enough to makeyou
sneeze, she had only an old Argand lamp. Ah! but you have notbeen to
Merret. Well, the bed is one of those old world beds, with a high
tester hung with flowered chintz. A small table stood by the bed,on
which I saw an "Imitation of Christ," which, by theway, I bought for
my wife, as well as the lamp. There were also a deep armchair forher
confidential maid, and two small chairs. There was no fire. Thatwas
all the furniture, not enough to fill ten lines in an inventory.

" 'My dear sir, if you had seen, as I then saw, that vastroom,
papered and hung with brown, you would have felt yourselftransported
into a scene of a romance. It was icy, nay more, funereal,' andhe
lifted his hand with a theatrical gesture and paused.

" 'By dint of seeking, as I approached the bed, at last Isaw Madame
de Merret, under the glimmer of the lamp, which fell on thepillows.
Her face was as yellow as wax, and as narrow as two folded hands.The
Countess had a lace cap showing her abundant hair, but as whiteas
linen thread. She was sitting up in bed, and seemed to keepupright
with great difficulty. Her large black eyes, dimmed by fever, no
doubt, and half-dead already, hardly moved under the bony arch ofher
eyebrows.--There,' he added, pointing to his own brow. 'Herforehead
was clammy; her fleshless hands were like bones covered with soft
skin; the veins and muscles were perfectly visible. She must havebeen
very handsome; but at this moment I was startled into anindescribable
emotion at the sight. Never, said those who wrapped her in hershroud,
had any living creature been so emaciated and lived. In short, itwas
awful to behold! Sickness so consumed that woman, that she was nomore
than a phantom. Her lips, which were pale violet, seemed to menot to
move when she spoke to me.

" 'Though my profession has familiarized me with suchspectacles, by
calling me not infrequently to the bedside of the dying to record
their last wishes, I confess that families in tears and theagonies I
have seen were as nothing in comparison with this lonely andsilent
woman in her vast chateau. I heard not the least sound, I did not
perceive the movement which the sufferer's breathing ought tohave
given to the sheets that covered her, and I stood motionless,absorbed
in looking at her in a sort of stupor. In fancy I am there still.At
last her large eyes moved; she tried to raise her right hand, butit
fell back on the bed, and she uttered these words, which camelike a
breath, for her voice was no longer a voice: "I have waitedfor you
with the greatest impatience." A bright flush rose to hercheeks. It
was a great effort to her to speak.

" ' "Madame," I began. She signed to me to besilent. At that moment
the old housekeeper rose and said in my ear, "Do not speak;Madame la
Comtesse is not in a state to bear the slightest noise, and whatyou
say might agitate her."

" 'I sat down. A few instants after, Madame de Merretcollected all
her remaining strength to move her right hand, and slipped it,not
without infinite difficulty, under the bolster; she then paused a
moment. With a last effort she withdrew her hand; and when shebrought
out a sealed paper, drops of perspiration rolled from her brow."I
place my will in your hands--Oh! God! Oh!" and that was all.She
clutched a crucifix that lay on the bed, lifted it hastily to her
lips, and died.

" 'The expression of her eyes still makes me shudder as Ithink of it.
She must have suffered much! There was joy in her last glance,and it
remained stamped on her dead eyes.

" 'I brought away the will, and when it was opened I foundthat Madame
de Merret had appointed me her executor. She left the whole ofher
property to the hospital at Vendome excepting a few legacies. But
these were her instructions as relating to la Grande Breteche:She
ordered me to leave the place, for fifty years counting from theday
of her death, in the state in which it might be at the time ofher
death, forbidding any one, whoever he might be, to enter the
apartments, prohibiting any repairs whatever, and even settling a
salary to pay watchmen if it were needful to secure the absolute
fulfilment of her intentions. At the expiration of that term, ifthe
will of the testatrix has been duly carried out, the house is to
become the property of my heirs, for, as you know, a notarycannot
take a bequest. Otherwise la Grande Breteche reverts to the heirs-at-
law, but on condition of fulfilling certain conditions set forthin a
codicil to the will, which is not to be opened till theexpiration of
the said term of fifty years. The will has not been disputed, so----'
And without finishing his sentence, the lanky notary looked at mewith
an air of triumph; I made him quite happy by offering him my
congratulations.

" 'Monsieur,' I said in conclusion, 'you have so vividlyimpressed me
that I fancy I see the dying woman whiter than her sheets; her
glittering eyes frighten me; I shall dream of her to-night.--Butyou
must have formed some idea as to the instructions contained inthat
extraordinary will.'

" 'Monsieur,' said he, with comical reticence, 'I neverallow myself
to criticise the conduct of a person who honors me with the giftof a
diamond.'

"However, I soon loosened the tongue of the discreet notaryof
Vendome, who communicated to me, not without long digressions,the
opinions of the deep politicians of both sexes whose judgmentsare law
in Vendome. But these opinions were so contradictory, so diffuse,that
I was near falling asleep in spite of the interest I felt in this
authentic history. The notary's ponderous voice and monotonousaccent,
accustomed no doubt to listen to himself and to make himselflistened
to by his clients or fellow-townsmen, were too much for mycuriosity.
Happily, he soon went away.

" 'Ah, ha, monsieur,' said he on the stairs, 'a good manypersons
would be glad to live five-and-forty years longer; but--onemoment!'
and he laid the first finger of his right hand to his nostrilwith a
cunning look, as much as to say, 'Mark my words!--To last as longas
that--as long as that,' said he, 'you must not be past sixty now.'

"I closed my door, having been roused from my apathy by thislast
speech, which the notary thought very funny; then I sat down inmy
armchair, with my feet on the fire-dogs. I had lost myself in a
romance /a la/ Radcliffe, constructed on the juridical base givenme
by Monsieur Regnault, when the door, opened by a woman's cautious
hand, turned on the hinges. I saw my landlady come in, a buxom,florid
dame, always good-humored, who had missed her calling in life.She was
a Fleming, who ought to have seen the light in a picture byTeniers.

" 'Well, monsieur,' said she, 'Monsieur Regnault has nodoubt been
giving you his history of la Grande Breteche?'

" 'Yes, Madame Lepas.'

" 'And what did he tell you?'

"I repeated in a few words the creepy and sinister story ofMadame de
Merret. At each sentence my hostess put her head forward, lookingat
me with an innkeeper's keen scrutiny, a happy compromise betweenthe
instinct of a police constable, the astuteness of a spy, and the
cunning of a dealer.

" 'My good Madame Lepas,' said I as I ended, 'you seem toknow more
about it. Heh? If not, why have you come up to me?'

" 'On my word, as an honest woman----'

" 'Do not swear; your eyes are big with a secret. You knewMonsieur de
Merret; what sort of man was he?'

" 'Monsieur de Merret--well, you see he was a man you nevercould see
the top of, he was so tall! A very good gentleman, from Picardy,and
who had, as we say, his head close to his cap. He paid foreverything
down, so as never to have difficulties with any one. He was hot-
tempered, you see! All our ladies liked him very much.'

" 'Because he was hot-tempered?' I asked her.

" 'Well, may be,' said she; 'and you may suppose, sir, thata man had
to have something to show for a figurehead before he could marry
Madame de Merret, who, without any reflection on others, was the
handsomest and richest heiress in our parts. She had about twenty
thousand francs a year. All the town was at the wedding; thebride was
pretty and sweet-looking, quite a gem of a woman. Oh, they were a
handsome couple in their day!'

" 'And were they happy together?'

" 'Hm, hm! so-so--so far as can be guessed, for, as you maysuppose,
we of the common sort were not hail-fellow-well-met with them.--Madame
de Merret was a kind woman and very pleasant, who had no doubt
sometimes to put up with her husband's tantrums. But though hewas
rather haughty, we were fond of him. After all, it was his placeto
behave so. When a man is a born nobleman, you see----'

" 'Still, there must have been some catastrophe for Monsieurand
Madame de Merret to part so violently?'

" 'I did not say there was any catastrophe, sir. I knownothing about
it.'

" 'Indeed. Well, now, I am sure you know everything.'

" 'Well, sir, I will tell you the whole story.--When I sawMonsieur
Regnault go up to see you, it struck me that he would speak toyou
about Madame de Merret as having to do with la Grande Breteche.That
put it into my head to ask your advice, sir, seeming to me thatyou
are a man of good judgment and incapable of playing a poor womanlike
me false--for I never did any one a wrong, and yet I am tormentedby
my conscience. Up to now I have never dared to say a word to the
people of these parts; they are all chatter-mags, with tongueslike
knives. And never till now, sir, have I had any traveler here who
stayed so long in the inn as you have, and to whom I could tellthe
history of the fifteen thousand francs----'

" 'My dear Madame Lepas, if there is anything in your storyof a
nature to compromise me,' I said, interrupting the flow of herwords,
'I would not hear it for all the world.'

" 'You need have no fears,' said she; 'you will see.'

"Her eagerness made me suspect that I was not the onlyperson to whom
my worthy landlady had communicated the secret of which I was tobe
the sole possessor, but I listened.

" 'Monsieur,' said she, 'when the Emperor sent the Spaniardshere,
prisoners of war and others, I was required to lodge at thecharge of
the Government a young Spaniard sent to Vendome on parole.
Notwithstanding his parole, he had to show himself every day tothe
sub-prefect. He was a Spanish grandee--neither more nor less. Hehad a
name in /os/ and /dia/, something like Bagos de Feredia. I wrotehis
name down in my books, and you may see it if you like. Ah! he wasa
handsome young fellow for a Spaniard, who are all ugly they say.He
was not more than five feet two or three in height, but so wellmade;
and he had little hands that he kept so beautifully! Ah! youshould
have seen them. He had as many brushes for his hands as a womanhas
for her toilet. He had thick, black hair, a flame in his eye, a
somewhat coppery complexion, but which I admired all the same. Hewore
the finest linen I have ever seen, though I have had princessesto
lodge here, and, among others, General Bertrand, the Duc andDuchesse
d'Abrantes, Monsieur Descazes, and the King of Spain. He did noteat
much, but he had such polite and amiable ways that it wasimpossible
to owe him a grudge for that. Oh! I was very fond of him, thoughhe
did not say four words to me in a day, and it was impossible tohave
the least bit of talk with him; if he was spoken to, he did not
answer; it is a way, a mania they all have, it would seem.

" 'He read his breviary like a priest, and went to mass andall the
services quite regularly. And where did he post himself?--wefound
this out later.--Within two yards of Madame de Merret's chapel.As he
took that place the very first time he entered the church, no one
imagined that there was any purpose in it. Besides, he neverraised
his nose above his book, poor young man! And then, monsieur, ofan
evening he went for a walk on the hill among the ruins of the old
castle. It was his only amusement, poor man; it reminded him ofhis
native land. They say that Spain is all hills!

" 'One evening, a few days after he was sent here, he wasout very
late. I was rather uneasy when he did not come in till just onthe
stroke of midnight; but we all got used to his whims; he took thekey
of the door, and we never sat up for him. He lived in a house
belonging to us in the Rue des Casernes. Well, then, one of our
stable-boys told us one evening that, going down to wash thehorses in
the river, he fancied he had seen the Spanish Grandee swimmingsome
little way off, just like a fish. When he came in, I told him tobe
careful of the weeds, and he seemed put out at having been seenin the
water.

" 'At last, monsieur, one day, or rather one morning, we didnot find
him in his room; he had not come back. By hunting through histhings,
I found a written paper in the drawer of his table, with fiftypieces
of Spanish gold of the kind they call doubloons, worth about five
thousand francs; and in a little sealed box ten thousand francsworth
of diamonds. The paper said that in case he should not return, heleft
us this money and these diamonds in trust to found masses tothank God
for his escape and for his salvation.

" 'At that time I still had my husband, who ran off insearch of him.
And this is the queer part of the story: he brought back the
Spaniard's clothes, which he had found under a big stone on asort of
breakwater along the river bank, nearly opposite la GrandeBreteche.
My husband went so early that no one saw him. After reading the
letter, he burnt the clothes, and, in obedience to CountFeredia's
wish, we announced that he had escaped.

" 'The sub-prefect set all the constabulary at his heels;but, pshaw!
he was never caught. Lepas believed that the Spaniard had drowned
himself. I, sir, have never thought so; I believe, on thecontrary,
that he had something to do with the business about Madame deMerret,
seeing that Rosalie told me that the crucifix her mistress was sofond
of that she had it buried with her, was made of ebony and silver;now
in the early days of his stay here, Monsieur Feredia had one ofebony
and silver which I never saw later.--And now, monsieur, do notyou say
that I need have no remorse about the Spaniard's fifteen thousand
francs? Are they not really and truly mine?'

" 'Certainly.--But have you never tried to questionRosalie?' said I.

" 'Oh, to be sure I have, sir. But what is to be done? Thatgirl is
like a wall. She knows something, but it is impossible to makeher
talk.'

"After chatting with me for a few minutes, my hostess leftme a prey
to vague and sinister thoughts, to romantic curiosity, and areligious
dread, not unlike the deep emotion which comes upon us when we gointo
a dark church at night and discern a feeble light glimmeringunder a
lofty vault--a dim figure glides across--the sweep of a gown orof a
priest's cassock is audible--and we shiver! La Grande Breteche,with
its rank grasses, its shuttered windows, its rusty iron-work, its
locked doors, its deserted rooms, suddenly rose before me infantastic
vividness. I tried to get into the mysterious dwelling to searchout
the heart of this solemn story, this drama which had killed three
persons.

"Rosalie became in my eyes the most interesting being inVendome. As I
studied her, I detected signs of an inmost thought, in spite ofthe
blooming health that glowed in her dimpled face. There was in hersoul
some element of ruth or of hope; her manner suggested a secret,like
the expression of devout souls who pray in excess, or of a girlwho
has killed her child and for ever hears its last cry.Nevertheless,
she was simple and clumsy in her ways; her vacant smile hadnothing
criminal in it, and you would have pronounced her innocent onlyfrom
seeing the large red and blue checked kerchief that covered her
stalwart bust, tucked into the tight-laced bodice of a lilac- and
white-striped gown. 'No,' said I to myself, 'I will not quitVendome
without knowing the whole history of la Grande Breteche. Toachieve
this end, I will make love to Rosalie if it proves necessary.'

" 'Rosalie!' said I one evening.

" 'Your servant, sir?'

" 'You are not married?' She started a little.

" 'Oh! there is no lack of men if ever I take a fancy to be
miserable!' she replied, laughing. She got over her agitation atonce;
for every woman, from the highest lady to the inn-servantinclusive,
has a native presence of mind.

" 'Yes; you are fresh and good-looking enough never to lacklovers!
But tell me, Rosalie, why did you become an inn-servant onleaving
Madame de Merret? Did she not leave you some little annuity?'

" 'Oh yes, sir. But my place here is the best in all thetown of
Vendome.'

"This reply was such an one as judges and attorneys callevasive.
Rosalie, as it seemed to me, held in this romantic affair theplace of
the middle square of the chess-board: she was at the very centreof
the interest and of the truth; she appeared to me to be tied intothe
knot of it. It was not a case for ordinary love-making; this girl
contained the last chapter of a romance, and from that moment allmy
attentions were devoted to Rosalie. By dint of studying the girl,I
observed in her, as in every woman whom we make our rulingthought, a
variety of good qualities; she was clean and neat; she washandsome, I
need not say; she soon was possessed of every charm that desirecan
lend to a woman in whatever rank of life. A fortnight after the
notary's visit, one evening, or rather one morning, in the small
hours, I said to Rosalie:

" 'Come, tell me all you know about Madame de Merret.'

" 'Oh!' she said, 'I will tell you; but keep the secretcarefully.'

" 'All right, my child; I will keep all your secrets with athief's
honor, which is the most loyal known.'

" 'If it is all the same to you,' said she, 'I would ratherit should
be with your own.'

"Thereupon she set her head-kerchief straight, and settledherself to
tell the tale; for there is no doubt a particular attitude of
confidence and security is necessary to the telling of anarrative.
The best tales are told at a certain hour--just as we are allhere at
table. No one ever told a story well standing up, or fasting.

"If I were to reproduce exactly Rosalie's diffuse eloquence,a whole
volume would scarcely contain it. Now, as the event of which shegave
me a confused account stands exactly midway between the notary's
gossip and that of Madame Lepas, as precisely as the middle termof a
rule-of-three sum stands between the first and third, I have onlyto
relate it in as few words as may be. I shall therefore be brief.

"The room at la Grande Breteche in which Madame de Merretslept was on
the ground floor; a little cupboard in the wall, about four feetdeep,
served her to hang her dresses in. Three months before theevening of
which I have to relate the events, Madame de Merret had beenseriously
ailing, so much so that her husband had left her to herself, andhad
his own bedroom on the first floor. By one of those accidentswhich it
is impossible to foresee, he came in that evening two hours laterthan
usual from the club, where he went to read the papers and talk
politics with the residents in the neighborhood. His wifesupposed him
to have come in, to be in bed and asleep. But the invasion ofFrance
had been the subject of a very animated discussion; the game of
billiards had waxed vehement; he had lost forty francs, anenormous
sum at Vendome, where everybody is thrifty, and where socialhabits
are restrained within the bounds of a simplicity worthy of allpraise,
and the foundation perhaps of a form of true happiness which no
Parisian would care for.

"For some time past Monsieur de Merret had been satisfied toask
Rosalie whether his wife was in bed; on the girl's replyingalways in
the affirmative, he at once went to his own room, with the goodfaith
that comes of habit and confidence. But this evening, on comingin, he
took it into his head to go to see Madame de Merret, to tell herof
his ill-luck, and perhaps to find consolation. During dinner hehad
observed that his wife was very becomingly dressed; he reflectedas he
came home from the club that his wife was certainly much better,that
convalescence had improved her beauty, discovering it, ashusbands
discover everything, a little too late. Instead of callingRosalie,
who was in the kitchen at the moment watching the cook and the
coachman playing a puzzling hand at cards, Monsieur de Merretmade his
way to his wife's room by the light of his lantern, which he setdown
at the lowest step of the stairs. His step, easy to recognize,rang
under the vaulted passage.

"At the instant when the gentleman turned the key to enterhis wife's
room, he fancied he heard the door shut of the closet of which Ihave
spoken; but when he went in, Madame de Merret was alone, standingin
front of the fireplace. The unsuspecting husband fancied thatRosalie
was in the cupboard; nevertheless, a doubt, ringing in his earslike a
peal of bells, put him on his guard; he looked at his wife, andread
in her eyes an indescribably anxious and haunted expression.

" 'You are very late,' said she.--Her voice, usually soclear and
sweet, struck him as being slightly husky.

"Monsieur de Merret made no reply, for at this momentRosalie came in.
This was like a thunder-clap. He walked up and down the room,going
from one window to another at a regular pace, his arms folded.

" 'Have you had bad news, or are you ill?' his wife askedhim timidly,
while Rosalie helped her to undress. He made no reply.

" 'You can go, Rosalie,' said Madame de Merret to her maid;'I can put
in my curl-papers myself.'--She scented disaster at the mereaspect of
her husband's face, and wished to be alone with him. As soon as
Rosalie was gone, or supposed to be gone, for she lingered a few
minutes in the passage, Monsieur de Merret came and stood facinghis
wife, and said coldly, 'Madame, there is some one in yourcupboard!'
She looked at her husband calmly, and replied quite simply, 'No,
monsieur.'

"This 'No' wrung Monsieur de Merret's heart; he did notbelieve it;
and yet his wife had never appeared purer or more saintly thanshe
seemed to be at this moment. He rose to go and open the closetdoor.
Madame de Merret took his hand, stopped him, looked at him sadly,and
said in a voice of strange emotion, 'Remember, if you should findno
one there, everything must be at an end between you and me.'

"The extraordinary dignity of his wife's attitude filled himwith deep
esteem for her, and inspired him with one of those resolves whichneed
only a grander stage to become immortal.

" 'No, Josephine,' he said, 'I will not open it. In eitherevent we
should be parted for ever. Listen; I know all the purity of yoursoul,
I know you lead a saintly life, and would not commit a deadly sinto
save your life.'--At these words Madame de Merret looked at her
husband with a haggard stare.--'See, here is your crucifix,' hewent
on. 'Swear to me before God that there is no one in there; I will
believe you--I will never open that door.'

"Madame de Merret took up the crucifix and said, 'I swear it.'

" 'Louder,' said her husband; 'and repeat: "I swearbefore God that
there is nobody in that closet." ' She repeated the wordswithout
flinching.

" 'That will do,' said Monsieur de Merret coldly. After amoment's
silence: 'You have there a fine piece of work which I never saw
before,' said he, examining the crucifix of ebony and silver,very
artistically wrought.

" 'I found it at Duvivier's; last year when that troop ofSpanish
prisoners came through Vendome, he bought it of a Spanish monk.'

" 'Indeed,' said Monsieur de Merret, hanging the crucifix onits nail;
and he rang the bell.

"He had to wait for Rosalie. Monsieur de Merret went forwardquickly
to meet her, led her into the bay of the window that looked on tothe
garden, and said to her in an undertone:

" 'I know that Gorenflot wants to marry you, that povertyalone
prevents your setting up house, and that you told him you wouldnot be
his wife till he found means to become a master mason.--Well, goand
fetch him; tell him to come here with his trowel and tools.Contrive
to wake no one in his house but himself. His reward will bebeyond
your wishes. Above all, go out without saying a word--or else!'and he
frowned.

"Rosalie was going, and he called her back. 'Here, take mylatch-key,'
said he.

" 'Jean!' Monsieur de Merret called in a voice of thunderdown the
passage. Jean, who was both coachman and confidential servant,left
his cards and came.

" 'Go to bed, all of you,' said his master, beckoning him tocome
close; and the gentleman added in a whisper, 'When they are allasleep
--mind, /asleep/--you understand?--come down and tell me.'

"Monsieur de Merret, who had never lost sight of his wifewhile giving
his orders, quietly came back to her at the fireside, and beganto
tell her the details of the game of billiards and the discussionat
the club. When Rosalie returned she found Monsieur and Madame de
Merret conversing amiably.

"Not long before this Monsieur de Merret had had newceilings made to
all the reception-rooms on the ground floor. Plaster is veryscarce at
Vendome; the price is enhanced by the cost of carriage; thegentleman
had therefore had a considerable quantity delivered to him,knowing
that he could always find purchasers for what might be left. Itwas
this circumstance which suggested the plan he carried out.

" 'Gorenflot is here, sir,' said Rosalie in a whisper.

" 'Tell him to come in,' said her master aloud.

"Madame de Merret turned paler when she saw the mason.

" 'Gorenflot,' said her husband, 'go and fetch some bricksfrom the
coach-house; bring enough to wall up the door of this cupboard;you
can use the plaster that is left for cement.' Then, draggingRosalie
and the workman close to him--'Listen, Gorenflot,' said he, in alow
voice, 'you are to sleep here to-night; but to-morrow morning you
shall have a passport to take you abroad to a place I will tellyou
of. I will give you six thousand francs for your journey. Youmust
live in that town for ten years; if you find you do not like it,you
may settle in another, but it must be in the same country. Gothrough
Paris and wait there till I join you. I will there give you an
agreement for six thousand francs more, to be paid to you on your
return, provided you have carried out the conditions of thebargain.
For that price you are to keep perfect silence as to what youhave to
do this night. To you, Rosalie, I will secure ten thousandfrancs,
which will not be paid to you till your wedding day, and oncondition
of your marrying Gorenflot; but, to get married, you must holdyour
tongue. If not, no wedding gift!'

" 'Rosalie,' said Madame de Merret, 'come and brush my hair.'

"Her husband quietly walked up and down the room, keeping aneye on
the door, on the mason, and on his wife, but without anyinsulting
display of suspicion. Gorenflot could not help making some noise.
Madame de Merret seized a moment when he was unloading somebricks,
and when her husband was at the other end of the room to say to
Rosalie: 'My dear child, I will give you a thousand francs a yearif
only you will tell Gorenflot to leave a crack at the bottom.'Then she
added aloud quite coolly: 'You had better help him.'

"Monsieur and Madame de Merret were silent all the timewhile
Gorenflot was walling up the door. This silence was intentionalon the
husband's part; he did not wish to give his wife the opportunityof
saying anything with a double meaning. On Madame de Merret's sideit
was pride or prudence. When the wall was half built up thecunning
mason took advantage of his master's back being turned to breakone of
the two panes in the top of the door with a blow of his pick. Bythis
Madame de Merret understood that Rosalie had spoken to Gorenflot.They
all three then saw the face of a dark, gloomy-looking man, withblack
hair and flaming eyes.

"Before her husband turned round again the poor woman hadnodded to
the stranger, to whom the signal was meant to convey, 'Hope.'

"At four o'clock, as the day was dawning, for it was themonth of
September, the work was done. The mason was placed in charge ofJean,
and Monsieur de Merret slept in his wife's room.

"Next morning when he got up he said with apparentcarelessness, 'Oh,
by the way, I must go to the Maire for the passport.' He put onhis
hat, took two or three steps towards the door, paused, and tookthe
crucifix. His wife was trembling with joy.

" 'He will go to Duvivier's,' thought she.

"As soon as he had left, Madame de Merret rang for Rosalie,and then
in a terrible voice she cried: 'The pick! Bring the pick! and setto
work. I saw how Gorenflot did it yesterday; we shall have time tomake
a gap and build it up again.'

"In an instant Rosalie had brought her mistress a sort ofcleaver;
she, with a vehemence of which no words can give an idea, set towork
to demolish the wall. She had already got out a few bricks, when,
turning to deal a stronger blow than before, she saw behind her
Monsieur de Merret. She fainted away.

" 'Lay madame on her bed,' said he coldly.

"Foreseeing what would certainly happen in his absence, hehad laid
this trap for his wife; he had merely written to the Maire andsent
for Duvivier. The jeweler arrived just as the disorder in theroom had
been repaired.

" 'Duvivier,' asked Monsieur de Merret, 'did not you buysome
crucifixes of the Spaniards who passed through the town?'

" 'No, monsieur.'

" 'Very good; thank you,' said he, flashing a tiger's glareat his
wife. 'Jean,' he added, turning to his confidential valet, 'youcan
serve my meals here in Madame de Merret's room. She is ill, and I
shall not leave her till she recovers.'

"The cruel man remained in his wife's room for twenty days.During the
earlier time, when there was some little noise in the closet, and
Josephine wanted to intercede for the dying man, he said, without
allowing her to utter a word, 'You swore on the Cross that therewas
no one there.' "



After this story all the ladies rose from table, and thus thespell
under which Bianchon had held them was broken. But there weresome
among them who had almost shivered at the last words.