s wouldn't feed my wife and children for the rest of my life,
would they?"

"And besides, when you say ten louis," interrupted the second peasant,
"you mean really five, because I'd get five, too."

"So the pavilion is haunted by ghosts, is it?" asked Roland.

"I didn't say the pavilion--I'm not sure about the pavilion--but in the
Chartreuse--"

"In the Chartreuse, are you sure?"

"Oh! there, certainly."

"Have you seen them?"

"I haven't; but some folks have."

"Has your comrade?" asked the young officer, turning to the second
peasant.

"I haven't seen them; but I did see flames, and Claude Philippon heard
chains."

"Ah! so they have flames and chains?" said Roland.

"Yes," replied the first peasant, "for I have seen the flames myself."

"And Claude Philippon on heard the chains," repeated the other.

"Very good, my friends, very good," replied Roland, sneering; "so you
won't go there to-night at any price?"

"Not at any price."

"Not for all the gold in the world."

"And you'll go to-morrow when it's light?"

"Oh! Monsieur Louis, before you're up the boar will be here."

"Before you're up," said Echo.

"All right," said Roland. "Come back to me the day after tomorrow."

"Willingly, Monsieur Louis. What do you want us to do?"

"Never mind; just come."

"Oh! we'll come."

"That means that the moment you say, 'Come,' you can count upon us,
Monsieur Louis."

"Well, then I'll have some information for you."

"What about?"

"The ghosts."

Amelie gave a stifled cry; Madame de Montrevel alone heard it. Louis
dismissed the two peasants, and they jostled each other at the door in
their efforts to go through together.

Nothing more was said that evening about the Chartreuse or the pavilion,
nor of its supernatural tenants, spectres or phantoms who haunted them.

CHAPTER XV. THE STRONG-MINDED MAN

At ten o'clock everyone was in bed at the Chateau des Noires-Fontaines,
or, at any rate, all had retired to their rooms.

Three or four times in the course of the evening Amelie had approached
Roland as if she had something to say to him; but each time the words
died upon her lips. When the family left the salon, she had taken
his arm, and, although his room was on the floor above hers, she had
accompanied him to his very door. Roland had kissed her, bade her
good-night, and closed his door, declaring himself very tired.

Nevertheless, in spite of this assertion, Roland, once alone, did n