For about half an hour, I think, this went on; but at the time it seemed to
me all but interminable. On a sudden she raised her head and listened for a
moment, replaced the papers deftly, closed the desk without noise, except
for the tiny click of the lock, extinguished the candle, and rustled
stealthily out of the room, leaving in the darkness the malign and hag-like
face on which the candle had just shone still floating filmy in the dark.

Why did I remain silent and motionless while such an outrage was being
committed? If, instead of being a very nervous girl, preoccupied with
an undefinable terror of that wicked woman, I had possessed courage and
presence of mind, I dare say I might have given an alarm, and escaped from
the room without the slightest risk. But so it was; I could no more stir
than the bird who, cowering under its ivy, sees the white owl sailing back
and forward under its predatory cruise.

Not only during her presence, but for more than an hour after, I remained
cowering in my hiding-place, and afraid to stir, lest she might either be
lurking in the neighborhood, or return and surprise me.

You will not be astonished, that after a night so passed I was ill and
feverish in the morning. To my horror, Madame de la Rougierre came to visit
me at my bedside. Not a trace of guilty consciousness of what had passed
during the night was legible in her face. She had no sign of late watching,
and her toilet was exemplary.

As she sat smiling by me, full of anxious and affectionate enquiry,
and smoothed the coverlet with her great felonious hand, I could quite
comprehend the dreadful feeling with which the deceived husband in the
'Arabian Nights' met his ghoul wife, after his nocturnal discovery.