Farewell | Page 4

light, every leaf stood out sharply in the clear, thin air. Then all at
once the sunlight died away, and the landscape that seemed to have
spoken grew silent and gloomy again, or rather, it took gray soft tones
like the tenderest hues of autumn dusk.
"It is the palace of the Sleeping Beauty," the Councillor said to himself
(he had already begun to look at the place from the point of view of an
owner of property). "Whom can the place belong to, I wonder. He must

be a great fool not to live on such a charming little estate!"
Just at that moment, a woman sprang out from under a walnut tree on
the right-hand side of the gateway, and passed before the Councillor as
noiselessly and swiftly as the shadow of a cloud. This apparition struck
him dumb with amazement.
"Hallo, d'Albon, what is the matter?" asked the Colonel.
"I am rubbing my eyes to find out whether I am awake or asleep,"
answered the magistrate, whose countenance was pressed against the
grating in the hope of catching a second glimpse of the ghost.
"In all probability she is under that fig-tree," he went on, indicating, for
Philip's benefit, some branches that over-topped the wall on the
left-hand side of the gateway.
"She? Who?"
"Eh! how should I know?" answered M. d'Albon. "A strange-looking
woman sprang up there under my very eyes just now," he added, in a
low voice; "she looked to me more like a ghost than a living being. She
was so slender, light and shadowy that she might be transparent. Her
face was as white as milk, her hair, her eyes, and her dress were black.
She gave me a glance as she flitted by. I am not easily frightened, but
that cold stony stare of hers froze the blood in my veins."
"Was she pretty?" inquired Philip.
"I don't know. I saw nothing but those eyes in her head."
"The devil take dinner at Cassan!" exclaimed the Colonel; "let us stay
here. I am as eager as a boy to see the inside of this queer place. The
window-sashes are painted red, do you see? There is a red line round
the panels of the doors and the edges of the shutters. It might be the
devil's own dwelling; perhaps he took it over when the monks went out.
Now, then, let us give chase to the black and white lady; come along!"
cried Philip, with forced gaiety.
He had scarcely finished speaking when the two sportsmen heard a cry
as if some bird had been taken in a snare. They listened. There was a
sound like the murmur of rippling water, as something forced its way
through the bushes; but diligently as they lent their ears, there was no
footfall on the path, the earth kept the secret of the mysterious woman's
passage, if indeed she had moved from her hiding-place.
"This is very strange!" cried Philip.
Following the wall of the path, the two friends reached before long a

forest road leading to the village of Chauvry; they went along this track
in the direction of the highway to Paris, and reached another large
gateway. Through the railings they had a complete view of the facade
of the mysterious house. From this point of view, the dilapidation was
still more apparent. Huge cracks had riven the walls of the main body
of the house built round three sides of a square. Evidently the place was
allowed to fall to ruin; there were holes in the roof, broken slates and
tiles lay about below. Fallen fruit from the orchard trees was left to rot
on the ground; a cow was grazing over the bowling-green and
trampling the flowers in the garden beds; a goat browsed on the green
grapes and young vine-shoots on the trellis.
"It is all of a piece," remarked the Colonel. "The neglect is in a fashion
systematic." He laid his hand on the chain of the bell-pull, but the bell
had lost its clapper. The two friends heard no sound save the peculiar
grating creak of the rusty spring. A little door in the wall beside the
gateway, though ruinous, held good against all their efforts to force it
open.
"Oho! all this is growing very interesting," Philip said to his
companion.
"If I were not a magistrate," returned M. d'Albon, "I should think that
the woman in black is a witch."
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when the cow came up to the
railings and held out her warm damp nose, as if she were glad of human
society. Then a woman, if so indescribable a being could be called a
woman, sprang up from the bushes, and pulled at the cord about the
cow's