I never saw one (not even myself) comparable to
Cecily. And then she has such a way of using those wicked black eyes of
hers! She throws into them a look--a look--that seems--to mean--I know
not what--only they seem to pierce you through, and make you feel so
strange; I never saw such eyes in my life! Why, there's my poor, dear,
darling Alfred, whose virtue has never been suspected; well, the first
time that she fixed her looks on him, the dear fellow turned as red as a
carrot, and nothing in the world could have induced him to gaze in her
face a second time. I'm sure for more than an hour afterwards he kept
fidgeting about in his chair, as though he were sitting upon nettles. He
told me afterwards he could not account for it, but that somehow the
look Cecily bestowed on him seemed to bring to his thoughts all the
dreadful stories that shameless Bradamanti used to tell about the female
savages, and which used to make my poor dear simpleton of an Alfred
blush to his very fingers' ends."

"But I want to hear what passed at the notary's. Never mind Alfred's
modesty just now, but tell me."

"I was just going, M. Rodolph. It was just seven o'clock in the evening
when we arrived at M. Ferrand's, and I told the porter to let his master
know that Madame Pipelet was there with the young woman she had spoke to
Madame Seraphin about, and by whose orders she had brought her. Upon
which the porter heaved a deep sigh, and asked me if I knew what had
happened to Madame Seraphin? I told him, 'No; I hadn't heard of anything
being the matter with her.' Ah, M. Rodolph, prepare for another strange
event,--a most astounding circumstance!"

"What can it be?"

"Why, Madame Seraphin was drowned while on a party of pleasure to which
she had gone with her relations."

"Drowned, and on a party of pleasure in the winter?" exclaimed Rodolph,
much surprised.

"Yes, drowned, M. Rodolph. For my part I must say that I was more
astonished than distressed at the news; for since that affair of poor
Louise, who was taken to prison entirely through her information, I
downright hated Madame Seraphin. So when I heard what had befallen her,
all I did was to say to myself, 'Oh, she's drowned, is she,--drowned?
Well, I don't mean to make myself ill with crying, that's very sure. I
sha'n't die of grief,--that's my disposition.'"

"And M. Ferrand?"

"The porter said at first he did not think I could see his master, and
begged me to wait in his lodge whil