ftness that characterized all her movements. Without so much as asking
me to come after her, she reached the banquette, and I walked by her side
through the streets, silent and troubled by her displeasure. My pride
forbade me to do as she wished. It was the hottest part of a burning
day, and the dome of the sky was like a brazen bell above us. We passed
the calabozo with its iron gates and tiny grilled windows pierced in the
massive walls, behind which Gignoux languished, and I could not repress a
smile as I thought of him. Even the Spaniards sometimes happened upon
justice. In the Rue Bourbon the little shops were empty, the doorstep
where my merry fiddler had played vacant, and the very air seemed to
simmer above the honeycombed tiles. I knocked at the door, once, twice.
There was no answer. I looked at Madame la Vicomtesse, and knocked again
so loudly that the little tailor across the street, his shirt opened at
the neck, flung out his shutter. Suddenly there was a noise within, the
door was opened, and Lindy stood before us, in the darkened room, with
terror in her eyes.

"Oh, Marse Dave," she cried, as we entered, "oh, Madame, I'se so glad
you'se come, I'se so glad you'se come."

She burst into a flood of tears. And Madame la Vicomtesse, raising her
veil, seized the girl by the arm.

"What is it?" she said. "What is the matter, Lindy?"

Madame's touch seemed to steady her.

"Miss Sally," she moaned, "Miss Sally done got de yaller fever."

There was a moment's silence, for we were both too appalled by the news
to speak.

"Lindy, are you sure?" said the Vicomtesse.

"Yass'm, yass'm," Lindy sobbed, "I reckon I'se done seed 'nuf of it,
Mistis." And she went into a hysterical fit of weeping.

The Vicomtesse turned to her own frightened servants in the doorway, bade
Andre in French to run for Dr. Perrin, and herself closed the battened
doors. There was a moment when her face as I saw it was graven on my
memory, reflecting a knowledge of the evils of this world, a spirit above
and untouched by them, a power to accept what life may bring with no
outward sign of pleasure or dismay. Doubtless thus she had made King and
Cardinal laugh, doubtless thus, ministering to those who crossed her
path, she had met her own calamities. Strangest of all was the effect
she had upon Lindy, for the girl ceased crying as she watched her.

Madame la Vicomtesse turned to me.

"You must go at once," she said. "When you get to Madame