"Never."

"And why?"

Madame shrugged her plump shoulders.

"Who may say? The ways of the afflicted are not our ways. Only I know
that Camille will never drive his flock to pasture near the lip of that
dark valley."

"That is strange. Can the place have associations for him connected with
his malady?"

"It is possible. Only the good God knows."

But _I_ was to know later on, with a little reeling of the reason also.

* * * * *

"Camille, I want to see the Cascade de Buet."

The hunted eyes of the stricken looked into mine with a piercing glance
of fear.

"Monsieur must not," he said, in a low voice.

"And why not?"

"The waters are bad--bad--haunted!"