monseigneur's room. Sperver was there waiting for me, and went to bed; so
there I was, all alone."

Here the good woman stopped a moment, indulged in a pinch of snuff, and
tried to arrange her thoughts. I listened with eager attention for what
was coming.

"About half-past ten," she went on, "I was sitting near the bed, and from
time to time drew the curtain to see what the count was doing; he made no
movement; he was sleeping as quietly as a child. It was all right until
eleven o'clock, then I began to feel tired. An old woman, sir, cannot
help herself--she must drop off to sleep in spite of everything. I did
not think anything was going to happen, and I said to myself, 'He is sure
to sleep till daylight.' About twelve the wind went down; the big windows
had been rattling, but now they were quiet. I got up to see if anything
was stirring outside. It was all as black as ink; so I came back to my
arm-chair. I took another look at the patient; I saw that he had not
stirred an inch, and I took up my knitting; but in a few minutes more I
began nodding, nodding, and I dropped right off to sleep. I could not
help it, the arm-chair was so soft and the room was so warm, who could
have helped it? I had been asleep an hour, I suppose, when a sharp
current of wind woke me up. I opened my eyes, and what do you think I
saw? The tall middle window was wide open, the curtains were drawn, and
there in the opening stood the count in his white night-dress, right on
the window-sill."

"The count?"

"Yes."