n place of taking the more roundabout way by the Rue des
Voyards, she crossed the little courtyard of her house and entered the
passage that conducted to the huge structure that fronted on the
Rue Maqua. As she came out into the great central garden, paved
with flagstones now and retaining of its pristine glories only a few
venerable trees, magnificent century-old elms, she was astonished to
see a sentry mounting guard at the door of a carriage-house; then it
occurred to her that she had been told the day before that the camp
chests of the 7th corps had been deposited there for safe keeping,
and it produced a strange impression on her mind that all the gold,
millions, it was said to amount to, should be lying in that shed while
the men for whom it was destined were being killed not far away. As she
was about to ascend the private staircase, however, that conducted to
the apartment of Gilberte, young Madame Delaherche, she experienced
another surprise in an encounter that startled her so that she retraced
her steps a little way, doubtful whether it would not be better to
abandon her intention, and go home again. An officer, a captain, had
crossed her path, as noiselessly as a phantom and vanishing as swiftly,
and yet she had had time to recognize him, having seen him in the past
at Gilberte's house in Charleville, in the days when she was still
Madame Maginot. She stepped back a few steps in the courtyard and raised
her eyes to the two tall windows of the bedroom, the blinds of which
were closed, then dismissed her scruples and entered.

Upon reaching the first floor, availing herself of that privilege of
old acquaintanceship by virtue of which one woman often drops in upon
another for an unceremonious early morning chat, she was about to knock
at the door of the dressing-room, but apparently someone had left the
room hastily and failed to secure the door, so that it was standing
ajar, and all she had to do was give it a push to find herself in
the dressing room, whence she passed into the bedroom. From the lofty
ceiling of the latter apartment depended voluminous curtains of red
velvet, protecting the large double bed. The warm, moist air was
fragrant with a faint perfume of Persian lilac, and there was no sound
to break the silence save a gentle, regular respiration, scarcely
audible.

"Gilberte!" said Henriette, very softly.

The young woman was sleeping peacefully, and the dim light that entered
the room between t