rder." And she struggled, and begged for mercy, and dreamed aloud
of vengeance. At last, as always happened when the attack was drawing to
a close, she fell into a strange fright, her teeth chattering, while her
limbs quivered with abject terror. Finally, after raising herself into
a sitting posture, she cast a haggard look of astonishment at one and
another corner of the room, and then fell back upon the pillow, heaving
deep sighs. She was, doubtless, a prey to some hallucination. However,
she drew Silvere to her bosom, and seemed to some degree to recognise
him, though ever and anon she confused him with someone else.

"There they are!" she stammered. "Do you see? They are going to take
you, they will kill you again. I don't want them to--Send them away,
tell them I won't; tell them they are hurting me, staring at me like
that--"

Then she turned to the wall, to avoid seeing the people of whom she was
talking. And after an interval of silence, she continued: "You are near
me, my child, aren't you? You must not leave me. I thought I was going
to die just now. We did wrong to make an opening in the wall. I have
suffered ever since. I was certain that door would bring us further
misfortune--Oh! the innocent darlings, what sorrow! They will kill them
as well, they will be shot down like dogs."

Then she relapsed into catalepsy; she was no longer even aware of
Silvere's presence. Suddenly, however, she sat up, and gazed at the foot
of her bed, with a fearful expression of terror.

"Why didn't you send them away?" she cried, hiding her white head
against the young man's breast. "They are still there. The one with the
gun is making signs that he is going to fire."

Shortly afterwards she fell into the heavy slumber that usually
terminated these attacks. On the next day, she seemed to have forgotten
everything. She never again spoke to Silvere of the morning on which she
had found him with a sweetheart behind the wall.

The young people did not see each other for a couple of days. When
Miette ventured to return to the well, they resolved not to recommence
the pranks which had upset aunt Dide. However, the meeting which had
been so strangely interrupted had filled them with a keen desire to
meet again in some happy solitude. Weary of the delights afforded by the
well, and unwilling to vex aunt Dide by seeing Miette again on the other
side of the wall, Silvere begged the girl to meet him somewhere else.
She required but l