rceived that the figure in white was indeed
Lucille--pale, haggard; while with one she held the candlestick, with
the other she motioned slowly towards the bed, which she was approaching
with breathless caution, upon tiptoe. With an effort Julie succeeded in
calling her by name, almost expecting as she did so to see the whole
apparition vanish into air.

"Awake, awake; how softly you breathe, Julie!" said Lucille, drawing
close to the bedside, and drawing the curtains.

"Yes, dear Lucille; can I do any thing for you?"

"No, no--nothing but----"

"How do you feel now?--are you better?"

"Yes, better than I desire to be."

"But why are you here, dear Lucille? Has any thing--_frightened_ you?"

"Ha! then you heard it, did you?"

"Heard it? What?"

"Why, how long have you been awake--did you--did you hear
music--singing?"

"No, no; but in truth, dear Lucille, I thought I heard you weeping."

"O, nonsense; who minds a girl's weeping. But you heard nothing else?"

"No, indeed."

Lucille appeared greatly relieved by this assurance. She stooped over
her and kissed her; and it was not until her face was thus brought near
that Julie could perceive how worn and wan with weeping it was.

"I have been dreaming, then; yes, yes, I suspected as much--_dreaming_,"
she said; and, as she reached her own room, she muttered--

"Well, God be thanked, she did _not_ hear it. But what can it mean? What
madness and crime can have conjured up these sounds? What can it mean
but guilt, danger, and despair?"

VII.--THE DEVIL'S COACH.

It seemed to Julie that Lucille was moody and abstracted next morning.
Sometimes for a few moments she talked and smiled as before, but this
was fitfully, and with an effort. She appeared like one brooding over
some wrong that had taken possession of her thoughts, or some dark and
angry scheme which engrossed her imagination. She soon left Julie and
retired to her own apartments.

When Monsieur Le Prun returned, some time after noon, not finding his
young wife in her usual chamber, he went up stairs to wish her good day
in her own suite of rooms.

He was surprised at the sullen and stormy countenance with which she
greeted him. She had not yet ventured to rebel against his authority,
although she had frequently hinted her remonstrances and wrongs. But
there was now a darkness charged with thunder on her brow, and the
fermier-general began seriously (in nautical phrase) to look out for
squalls