and cold fit emblem of the change
that had taken place; and now and then a drop of moisture, sliding down
the great chimney, pattered among them. The main door stood open, as if
the house had no longer anything to guard. The only living thing to be
seen was a hound which roamed about restlessly, now gazing at the empty
hearth now lying down with pricked cars and watchful eyes. Some leaves,
which had been blown in by the wind, rustled in a corner.

I went out moodily into the garden and wandered down one path and up
another, looking at the dripping woods, and remembering things, until
I came to the stone seat. On it, against the wall, trickling with
raindrops, and with a dead leaf half filling its narrow neck, stood the
pitcher of food. I thought how much had happened since Mademoiselle took
her hand from it and the sergeant's lanthorn disclosed it to me; and,
sighing grimly, I went in again through the parlour door.

A woman was on her knees, on the hearth kindling the belated fire. She
had her back to me, and I stood a moment looking at her doubtfully,
wondering how she would bear herself and what she would say to me. Then
she turned, and I started back, crying out her name in horror--for it
was Madame! Madame de Cocheforet!

She was plainly dressed, and her childish face was wan and piteous with
weeping; but either the night had worn out her passion and drained her
tears, or some great exigency had given her temporary calmness, for
she was perfectly composed. She shivered as her eyes met mine, and she
blinked as if a bright light had been suddenly thrust before her; but
that was all, and she turned again to her task without speaking.

'Madame! Madame!' I cried in a frenzy of distress. 'What is this?'

'The servants would not do it,' she answered in a low but steady voice.
'You are still our guest, Monsieur.'

'But I cannot suffer it!' I cried. 'Madame de Cocheforet, I will not--'

She raised her hand with a strange patient expression in her face.

'Hush! please,' she said. 'Hush! you trouble me.'

The fire blazed up as she spoke, and she rose slowly from it, and with a
lingering look at it went out, leaving me to stand and stare and listen
in the middle of the floor. Presently I heard her coming back along the
passage, and she entered bearing a tray with wine and meat and bread.
She set it down on the table, and with the same wan face, trembling
always on the verge of tears, she began to lay out the things. T