quainted with many of the inhabitants of the place, what was my
favourite reading, and a thousand other such questions. I answered these
inquiries as briefly as possible, and he, without ever waiting for
my answers, passed rapidly from one subject of query to another. That
conversation had evidently no connection with what he actually wished to
say. At last, without any premonition, but as though repeating a piece
of news which he had recalled on the instant, and feared might otherwise
be forgotten subsequently, he suddenly said, in a clear vibrant voice,
which rang in my ears like the trumpets of the Last Judgment:

'The great courtesan Clarimonde died a few days ago, at the close of
an orgie which lasted eight days and eight nights. It was something
infernally splendid. The abominations of the banquets of Belshazzar and
Cleopatra were re-enacted there. Good God, what age are we living in?
The guests were served by swarthy slaves who spoke an unknown tongue,
and who seemed to me to be veritable demons. The livery of the very
least among them would have served for the gala-dress of an emperor.
There have always been very strange stories told of this Clarimonde, and
all her lovers came to a violent or miserable end. They used to say that
she was a ghoul, a female vampire; but I believe she was none other than
Beelzebub himself.'

He ceased to speak, and commenced to regard me more attentively than
ever, as though to observe the effect of his words on me. I could not
refrain from starting when I heard him utter the name of Clarimonde, and
this news of her death, in addition to the pain it caused me by reason
of its coincidence with the nocturnal scenes I had witnessed, filled
me with an agony and terror which my face betrayed, despite my utmost
endeavours to appear composed. Serapion fixed an anxious and severe
look upon me, and then observed: 'My son, I must warn you that you are
standing with foot raised upon the brink of an abyss; take heed lest you
fall therein. Satan's claws are long, and tombs are not always true to
their trust. The tombstone of Clarimonde should be sealed down with a
triple seal, for, if report be true, it is not the first time she has
died. May God watch over you, Romuald!'

And with these words the Abbe walked slowly to the door. I did not see
him again at that time, for he left for S------ almost immediately.

I became completely restored to health and resumed my accustomed duties.
The memory