a fit.

"Oh, this time," I said, "I shall not play the coward. The cloak has
cured me of my fear of ghosts; and I should not advise any one to meddle
with me."

The hildago was obliged to leave me alone. I loaded my pistols and put
them on the table within reach of my hand; but these precautions were a
pure waste of time; nothing disturbed the silence of the room, and
the heavy red silk curtains, with their coat of arms at the corners in
tarnished silver, were not stirred by the slightest breath. Marcasse
returned and, delighted at finding me as cheerful as he had left me,
began preparing our supper with as much care as if we had come to
Roche-Mauprat for the sole purpose of making a good meal. He made jokes
about the capon which was still singing on the spit, and about the wine
which was so like a brush in the throat. His good humour increased when
the tenant appeared, bringing a few bottles of excellent Madeira, which
had been left with him by the chevalier, who liked to drink a glass or
two before setting foot in the stirrup. In return we invited the worthy
man to sup with us, as the least tedious way of discussing business
matters.

"Good," he said; "it will be like old times when the peasants used to
eat at the table of the seigneurs of Roche-Mauprat. You are doing the
same, Monsieur Bernard, you are quite right."

"Yes, sir," I replied very coldly; "only I behave thus with those who
owe me money, not those to whom I owe it."

This reply, and the word "sir," frightened him so much that he was at