the one overhead."

"Yes," said Manon, "Monsieur Alain's apartment is just like this, only
his has a view of the tower."

"I think I had better see the rooms by daylight," said Godefroid,
timidly.

"Perhaps so," said Manon.

The priest and Godefroid went downstairs, leaving the woman to lock
the doors. When they re-entered the salon, Godefroid, who was getting
inured to the surroundings, looked about him while discoursing with
Madame de la Chanterie, and examined the persons and things there
present.

The salon had curtains at its windows of old red damask, with
lambrequins, tied back at the sides with silken cords. The red-tiled
floor showed at the edges of an old tapestry carpet too small to cover
the whole room. The woodwork was painted gray. The plastered ceiling,
divided in two parts by a heavy beam which started from the fireplace,
seemed a concession tardily made to luxury. Armchairs, with their
woodwork painted white, were covered with tapestry. A paltry clock,
between two copper-gilt candlesticks, decorated the mantel-shelf.
Beside Madame de la Chanterie was an ancient table with spindle legs,
on which lay her balls of worsted in a wicker basket. A hydrostatic
lamp lighted the scene. The four men, who were seated there, silent,
immovable, like bronze statues, had evidently stopped their
conversation with Madame de la Chanterie when they heard the stranger
returning. They all had cold, discreet faces, in keeping with the