e crouched down like a hare, trembling at the
faintest rustle.

He waited for an hour--perhaps two--and yet the cart did not come back
again. He was persuaded that his wife was dying, and the thought of
seeing her, of meeting her eyes was such a torture to him, that, seized
with a sudden fear of being discovered and compelled to witness her
death, he again set off running, and did not stop till he was hidden in
the midst of a wood. Then he thought that perhaps she needed help and
that there was no one to take care of her as he could, and he sped back
in mad haste.

As he was going into the house, he met his gardener.

"Well?" he cried, excitedly.

The man dared not answer the truth.

"Is she dead?" almost yelled M. de Fourville.

"Yes, Monsieur le comte," stammered the servant.

The comte experienced an intense relief at the answer; all his agitation
left him, and he went quietly and firmly up the steps.

In the meantime, the other cart had arrived at Les Peuples. Jeanne saw
it in the distance, and guessing that a corpse lay upon the mattress,
understood at once what had happened; the shock was so great that she
fell to the ground unconscious. When she came to herself again she found
her father supporting her head, and bathing her forehead with vinegar.

"Do you know--?" he asked hesitatingly.

"Yes, father," she whispered, trying to rise; but she was in such pain
that she was forced to sink back again.

That evening she gave birth to a dead child--a girl.

She did not see or hear anything of Julien's funeral, for she was
delirious when he was buried. In a few days she was conscious of Aunt
Lison's presence in her room, and, in the midst of the feverish
nightmares by which she was haunted, she strove to recall when, and
under what circumstances, the old maid had last left Les Peuples. But
even in her lucid moments she could not remember, and she could only
feel sure she had seen her since the baroness's death.

* * * * *

XI

Jeanne was confined to her room for three months and everyone despaired
of her life, but very, very gradually health and strength returned to
her. Her father and Aunt Lison had come to live at the chateau, and they
nursed her day and night. The shock she had sustained had entirely upset
her nervous system; she started at the least noise, and the slightest
emotion caused her to go off into long swoons. She had never asked the
details of Julien's deat