were turned topsy-turvy, the country was scoured and beaten up,
over and over again, but the Jewess did not seem to have left a
single trace of her passage behind her.

When the general was told of it, he gave orders to hush up the
affair, so as not to set a bad example to the army, but he
severely censured the commandant, who in turn punished his
inferiors. The general had said: "One does not go to war in order
to amuse oneself, and to caress prostitutes." And Graf von
Farlsberg, in his exasperation, made up his mind to have his
revenge on the district, but as he required a pretext for showing
severity, he sent for the priest and ordered him to have the bell
tolled at the funeral of Count von Eyrick.

Contrary to all expectation, the priest showed himself humble and
most respectful, and when Mademoiselle Fifi's body left the
Chateau d'Urville on its way to the cemetery, carried by
soldiers, preceded, surrounded, and followed by soldiers, who
marched with loaded rifles, for the first time the bell sounded
its funereal knell in a lively manner, as if a friendly hand were
caressing it. At night it sounded again, and the next day, and
every day; it rang as much as anyone could desire. Sometimes
even, it would start at night, and sound gently through the
darkness, seized by strange joy, awakened, one could not tell
why. All the peasants in the neighborhood declared that it was
bewitched, and nobody, except the priest and the sacristan would
now go near the church tower, and they went because a poor girl
was living there in grief and solitude, secretly nourished by
those two men.