on the way; nevertheless, she told me that her mistress had received
the Sacrament in the course of the day at the hands of the Cure of
Merret, and seemed unlikely to live through the night. It was about
eleven when I reached the chateau. I went up the great staircase.
After crossing some large, lofty, dark rooms, diabolically cold and
damp, I reached the state bedroom where the Countess lay. From the
rumors that were current concerning this lady (monsieur, I should
never end if I were to repeat all the tales that were told about her),
I had imagined her a coquette. Imagine, then, that I had great
difficulty in seeing her in the great bed where she was lying. To be
sure, to light this enormous room, with old-fashioned heavy cornices,
and so thick with dust that merely to see it was enough to make you
sneeze, she had only an old Argand lamp. Ah! but you have not been to
Merret. Well, the bed is one of those old world beds, with a high
tester hung with flowered chintz. A small table stood by the bed, on
which I saw an "Imitation of Christ," which, by the way, I bought for
my wife, as well as the lamp. There were also a deep armchair for her
confidential maid, and two small chairs. There was no fire. That was
all the furniture, not enough to fill ten lines in an inventory.

"'My dear sir, if you had seen, as I then saw, that vast room,
papered and hung with brown, you would have felt yourself transported
into a scene of a romance. It was icy, nay more, funereal,' and he
lifted his hand with a theatrical gesture and paused.

"'By dint of seeking, as I approached the bed, at last I saw Madame
de Merret, under the glimmer of the lamp, which fell on the pillows.
Her face was as yellow as wax, and as narrow as two folded hands. The
Countess had a lace cap showing her abundant hair, but as white as
linen thread. She was sitting up in bed, and seemed to keep upright