rrectness of my reasoning, I saw that he was not entirely convinced.
He started whenever a shutter flapped, or the draughts, which searched
the grim old building through and through, threatened to extinguish our
lights. He hung cloaks over the windows to obviate the latter
inconvenience he said--and was continually going out and coming back
with gloomy looks. Parabere joined me in rallying him, which we did
without mercy; but when I had occasion, after a while, to pass through
the outer room I found that he was not alone in his fears. The
troopers sat moodily listening, or muttered together; while the cup
passed round in silence. When I bade a man go on an errand to the
stable, four went; and when I dropped a word to the woman who was
attending to her pot, a dozen heads were stretched out to catch the
answer.

Such a feeling--to which, in this instance, the murmur of the stream
and the steady downpour of rain doubtless added something--is so
contagious that I was not surprised to find Colet and La Font sinking
under it. Only Parabere, in fact, rose quite superior to the notion,
laughed at their fears, and drank to their better spirits; and, making
the best of the situation, as became an old soldier, presently engaged
me in tales of the war--fought again the siege of Laon, and buried men
whose bodies bad lain for ten years under the oaks at Fontaine
Francoise.

Talk of this kind, which we still maintained after we had despatched
our supper, was sufficiently engrossing to erase Boisrueil's fancies
entirely from my mind. They were recalled by his sudden entrance, with
Colet at his elbow, the faces of both full of importance. I saw that
they had something to say, and asked what it was.

"We have been examining the back gate, M. le Marquis," Colet said.

"Well, man?"

"It is barricaded, and cannot be opened," he answered.

"Well," I said again, "there is nothing wonderful in that. Anyone can
see that there has been rough work here. The front gate was stormed, I
suppose, and the back one left standing."

"But if is so barricaded that it is not possible to open it," he
objected. "And the men have an idea--"

"Well?" I said, seeing that he hesitated.

"That this is a one-eyed house."

Parabere laughed loudly. "Of course it is!" he said. "That strolling
rogue saw the gate as well as the woman, and made his profit of them."

"Pardon, sir!" Boisrueil answered bluntly, "That is just what he did
not do!"