n of M. le Cure--'

'You have my full permission,' M. le Cure said; and M. de Clairon
laughed, though he was still very pale. 'You saw my name there,' he
said. 'I am amused--I who am not one of your worthy citizens, M. le
Maire. What can Messieurs les Morts of Semur want with a poor man of
science like me? But you shall have my report before the evening is
out.'

With this I had to be content. The darkness which succeeded to that
strange light seemed more terrible than ever. We all stumbled as we
turned to go away, dazzled by it, and stricken dumb, though some kept
saying that it was a trick, and some murmured exclamations with voices
full of terror. The sound of the crowd breaking up was like a regiment
marching--all the world had been there. I was thankful, however, that
neither my mother nor my wife had seen anything; and though they were
anxious to know why I was so serious, I succeeded fortunately in keeping
the secret from them.

M. de Clairon did not appear till late, and then he confessed to me he
could make nothing of it. 'If it is a trick (as of course it must be),
it has been most cleverly done,' he said; and admitted that he was
baffled altogether. For my part, I was not surprised. Had it been the
Sisters of the hospital, as M. le Cure thought, would they have let the
opportunity pass of preaching a sermon to us, and recommending their
doctrines? Not so; here there were no doctrines, nothing but that
pregnant phrase, _la vraie signification de la vie_. This made a more
deep impression upon me than anything else. The Holy Mother herself
(whom I wish to speak of with profound respect), and the saints, and the
forgiveness of sins, would have all been there had it been the Sisters,
or even M. le Cure. This, though I had myself suggested an imposture,
made it very unlikely to my quiet thoughts. But if not an imposture,
what could it be supposed to be?

EXPULSION OF THE INHABITANTS.

I will not attempt to give any detailed account of the state of the town
during this evening. For myself I was utterly worn out, and went to rest
as soon as M. de Clairon left me, having satisfied, as well as I could,
the questions of the women. Even in the intensest excitement weary
nature will claim her dues. I slept. I can even remember the grateful
sense of being able to put all anxieties and perplexities aside for the
moment, as I went to sleep. I felt the drowsiness gain upon me, and I
was glad. To forget was of itself a