k,
with stern countenances, leaning against the wall. The windows were
hung with rags, the alcoves were pitchy dark, a mute silence reigned
throughout the house.

"Do you know this place?" asked the Prefect with solemn deliberation.
All turned their gaze upon Clarissa. In order to soften the frightful
tension of her breast, she listened to the rain, which was beating
against the wall outside; all her senses seemed to have gathered in her
ear to that end. Her body grew limp, her tongue refused to utter more
than "no" or "yes," and since the first promised new torment and agony,
but the latter perchance peace, she breathed a "yes:" a little word,
born of fear and exhaustion, and, scarce alive, winged with a
mysterious power. Her mind, confused and consumed with longing, turned
a phantom image, the creation of a thousand effervescent brains, into
an actual experience. The half consciously heard, half distractedly
read, became a burning reality. Her existence seemed strangely
entangled in that of the man of the wood and dale, who had fervently
lifted his head to heaven, and sniffed in the air with the expression
of a thirsting animal. Now she stood upon the bridge which led to his
domain; she beheld herself sitting at his feet, drops of blood from his
outstretched hand fell upon her bowed head. Consternation on the one
hand, and the most radiant hope on the other, seized her heart, while
between there flamed like a torch, there rang out exultant like a
battle-cry, the name Bastide Grammont, a plaything for her dreams.

An expression of relief flitted over the faces of the men upon this
first syllable of a significant confession. President Seguret covered
his eyes with his hand. He resolved in his heart to renounce his love
for his misguided child. Clarissa felt it; all the ties which had
hitherto bound her were broken.

She had, then, been in the room on the evening of the nineteenth of
March? she was asked. She nodded. How had she come there? questioned
Monsieur Jausion further, and his tone and mien were marked by a
certain cautiousness and nicety, as if he feared to disturb the still
timorous spirits of memory. Clarissa remained silent. Had she come by
way of the Rue des Hebdomadiers? asked the Prefect. Clarissa nodded.
"Speak! Speak!" thundered Monsieur Seguret suddenly, and even the two
sheriff's officers were startled.

"I met several persons," Clarissa whispered in a tone so low that all
involuntarily bent their