ck towards the chateau.

'It was not I that saw him, madam, it was Jean the gardener. It was
twelve o'clock at night, and, as he was coming across the court to go
the back way into the house, what should he see--but somebody walking in
the avenue, that fronts the garden gate! So, with that, Jean guessed how
it was, and he went into the house for his gun.'

'His gun!' exclaimed Emily.

'Yes, madam, his gun; and then he came out into the court to watch him.
Presently, he sees him come slowly down the avenue, and lean over the
garden gate, and look up at the house for a long time; and I warrant he
examined it well, and settled what window he should break in at.'

'But the gun,' said Emily--'the gun!'

'Yes, madam, all in good time. Presently, Jean says, the robber opened
the gate, and was coming into the court, and then he thought proper to
ask him his business: so he called out again, and bade him say who he
was, and what he wanted. But the man would do neither; but turned upon
his heel, and passed into the garden again. Jean knew then well enough
how it was, and so he fired after him.'

'Fired!' exclaimed Emily.

'Yes, madam, fired off his gun; but, Holy Virgin! what makes you look
so pale, madam? The man was not killed,--I dare say; but if he was, his
comrades carried him off: for, when Jean went in the morning, to look
for the body, it was gone, and nothing to be seen but a track of blood
on the ground. Jean followed it, that he might find out where the man
got into the garden, but it was lost in the grass, and'--

Annette was interrupted: for Emily's spirits died away, and she would
have fallen to the ground, if the girl had not caught her, and supported
her to a bench, close to them.

When, after a long absence, her senses returned, Emily desired to be
led to her apartment; and, though she trembled with anxiety to enquire
further on the subject of her alarm, she found herself too ill at
present, to dare the intelligence which it was possible she might
receive of Valancourt. Having dismissed Annette, that she might weep
and think at liberty, she endeavoured to recollect the exact air of the
person, whom she had seen on the terrace, and still her fancy gave her
the figure of Valancourt. She had, indeed, scarcely a doubt, that it was
he whom she had seen, and at whom the gardener had fired: for the manner
of the latter person, as described by Annette, was not that of a robber;
nor did it appear probable, that