lying in ambush, continued to exercise her
lungs, as she floundered on the parquet, without
daring to lift her head, until she brought
round her the whole of Monsieur Gombert's
household, with the exception of Madeleine,
who, more piously disposed than ever, had
gone again to vesper service, in the church
of Saint Merri.

"But what is the matter, my poor
Petronille ? " said Monsieur Gombert, as they
raised the old woman, and conducted her into
an inner room.

"Oh, sir! sir! " she replied, with hysterical
effort; " I have seen him—I—myself!"

"Seen whom, Petronille? " asked the silk-
merchant, tremulously.

"Fresh from the grave, in his winding-
sheet,—with eyes like burning charcoal!"

Monsieur Gombert groaned instinctively,
and did not repeat his question; Jacques,
the clerk, Marie, the cook, and Felicité, the
fille-de-chambre, were, however, clamorous
to hear all.

"But tell us, Petronille, for the love of
Heaven!"

"One, two, three,—as slowly as the clock
strikes, I heard him descending the staircase,
just as I was holding the door in my
hand, after letting out Mademoiselle, when
she went to vespers. How can I tell why I
waited to see who might be coming? These
things are fate! Suddenly, before I knew
what had happened, he stood within a yard
of me. I might have touched him. Then I
saw his face! The face of the young
gentleman from Lyons, who died last week at
the Ecu d'Argent, in the Rue des Carmes.
The face of Monsieur Bodry!"

Monsieur Gombert dropped into a chair,
unable to utter a word; consternation was
depicted on every countenance; and a loud
knocking was heard at the outer door.

Everybody (Monsieur Gombert only
excepted) screamed again; and Pierre, the
concierge, came in, amazed, removing from
his head a little skull-cap, made of carpet.

"Monsieur Pierre," shrieked Petronille,
"I have seen a ghost!"

"Bah! " replied Pierre, " I've seen five
thousand. A ghost and a dead man are
much the same thing, I imagine. When one
sleeps on the field of battle, one sees plenty
of ghosts."

"Ah, but they don't walk, Pierre, those
dead people," replied Petronille.

"Very odd, if they did," said Pierre, " when
their legs are shot away."

The obstinacy of the old soldier did more
to recover Petronille, than even his corporeal
presence, and with as much emphasis, but
more circumstance, she repeated her
adventure. Still Pierre shook his head.

"But Monsieur Gombert," continued the
bonne, " has been visited by the same ghost.
It is the ghost of a young man! He came
to him an hour after his death. And
what will you say, when I tell you,—my
duty now compels me to reveal it,—that
Mademoiselle Gombert, in her turn, has seen
the spirit? No later than yesterday evening
it appeared to her in the church of Saint
Merri. On that account, she has gone again
to-night, to consult Monsieur le Curé."

"What is that you say ? " cried Monsieur
Gombert. " Oh, my good friend Pierre, run
to the church and bid her return instantly!
Also, ask Monsieur le Curé to come as soon
as the service is over."

The concierge no longer presumed openly
to deny what was affirmed on so much higher
authority, but he obeyed Monsieur Gombert's
orders, and set off at once.

V.

WHEN Henri Blaireau got into the street,
he was at a loss what to do next. One set
of inclinations prompted him, to go and get
some dinner; another set of inclinations,—
loftier, nobler, altogether more becoming a
lover—led him to follow the route which
Mademoiselle Gombert had just taken.

Accordingly, he also bent his footsteps to
the church of Saint Merri. Arrived there, he
made no pause in the porch, lingered not an
instant in the nave, took no heed of priests
or old women, but plunging into the south
aisle, steered his way softly through the
labyrinth of piled-up chairs, till he came to the
chapel of the Virgin. What was his delight, as
he cautiously peeped from behind the pillar
where he had stood the evening before, when,
in the same attitude and in front of the same
altar, he beheld Mademoiselle Gombert!

Experience had taught him wisdom. His
unlucky features, he resolved, should not
get him into a scrape again. He advanced,
therefore, at a quick step, covered his face
with both hands, took advantage of a devotee's
privilege by plumping himself on his
knees beside Madeleine, and bending down
his head, began to pray with great fervour.

Though such an association in worship
was not so uncommon as to be remarkable,
Mademoiselle Gombert felt a little
uncomfortable at the close proximity of the stranger.

"Beate mater," murmured the new
supplicant, "et intacta virgo, gloriosa regina
mundi, intercede pro nobis ad—" He paused
for a moment or two, and then, turning
towards Mademoiselle Gombert, substituted
for the right word, " Magdalenam; " and,
before she could recover from her
astonishment, he added:

"Forgive me, Mademoiselle; but in me
you behold the person who, last night,
unhappily caused you trouble."

Madeleine rose hastily to her feet, and
moved from the chapel; but she was
overtaken by Henri Blaireau before she had
gone many steps.

"Can it be ? " she said, faintly. " Do the
dead return to this world ? "

"Not the dead," said Henri, seizing her
hand; "not the dead, but the living."