ten
lectured me by the hour together--I did not see why I should not speak
my mind for once. So I told him my impressions concerning his
Jesuit-system.

"The knowledge it brings you is bought too dear, Monsieur; this coming
and going by stealth degrades your own dignity."

"My dignity!" he cried, laughing; "when did you ever see me trouble my
head about my dignity? It is you, Miss Lucy, who are 'digne.' How
often, in your high insular presence, have I taken a pleasure in
trampling upon, what you are pleased to call, my dignity; tearing it,
scattering it to the winds, in those mad transports you witness with
such hauteur, and which I know you think very like the ravings of a
third-rate London actor."

"Monsieur, I tell you every glance you cast from that lattice is a
wrong done to the best part of your own nature. To study the human
heart thus, is to banquet secretly and sacrilegiously on Eve's apples.
I wish you were a Protestant."

Indifferent to the wish, he smoked on. After a space of smiling yet
thoughtful silence, he said, rather suddenly--"I have seen other
things."

"What other things?"

Taking the weed from his lips, he threw the remnant amongst the shrubs,
where, for a moment, it lay glowing in the gloom.

"Look, at it," said he: "is not that spark like an eye watching you and
me?"

He took a turn down the walk; presently returning, he went on:--"I have
seen, Miss Lucy, things to me unaccountable, that have made me watch
all night for a solution, and I have not yet found it."

The tone was peculiar; my veins thrilled; he saw me shiver.

"Are you afraid? Whether is it of my words or that red jealous eye just
winking itself out?"

"I am cold; the night grows dark and late, and the air is changed; it
is time to go in."

"It is little past eight, but you shall go in soon. Answer me only this
question."

Yet he paused ere he put it. The garden was truly growing dark; dusk
had come on with clouds, and drops of rain began to patter through the
trees. I hoped he would feel this, but, for the moment, he seemed too
much absorbed to be sensible of the change.

"Mademoiselle, do you Protestants believe in the supernatural?"

"There is a difference of theory and belief on this point amongst
Protestants as amongst other sects," I answered. "Why, Monsieur, do you
ask such a question?"

"Why do you shrink and speak so faintly? Are you superstitious?"

"I am constitutionally nervous. I dislike the discus