of sight. Without paying any attention to Lambernier, who was
uttering imprecations at the bottom of the ditch, into which he was
sinking deeper and deeper, the stranger went to seek a less illusive
shelter than the trees under which he had taken his position; but at
this moment his attention was attracted to one side of the castle. A
window, or rather a glass door, just then opened upon the balcony, and a
young woman in a rose-colored negligee appeared upon the dark facade. It
would be impossible to imagine anything more fresh or charming than
this apparition at such a moment. Leaning upon the balustrade, the young
woman rested her face upon a hand which was as white as a lily, and her
finger smoothed with a mechanical caress the ringlets of chestnut hair
that lay upon her forehead, while her large brown eyes gazed into the
depths of the clouds from which the lightning was flashing, and with
which they vied in brilliancy. A poet would have said it was Miranda
evoked by the tempest.

The stranger parted the branches before him to get a better view; at the
same instant he was blinded by a terrible flash which lighted the whole
valley and was immediately followed by a terrific crash. When he opened
his eyes the chateau which he believed to be at the bottom of the river
stood still upright, solemn, and firm as before; but the lady in the
rose-colored gown had disappeared.

CHAPTER II. THE CASTLE OF BERGENHEIM

The appearance of the room into which the lady had precipitately
entered, when startled by the thunder, corresponded with the edifice to
which it belonged. It was a very large room, longer than it was wide,
and lighted by three windows, the middle one of which opened from top
to bottom like a door and led out upon the balcony. The woodwork and
ceiling were in chestnut, which time had polished and a skilful hand had
ornamented with a profusion of allegorical figures. The beauty of
this work of art was almost entirely concealed by a very remarkable
decoration which covered every side of the room, consisting of one
of the most glorious collections of family portraits which a country
chateau of the nineteenth century could offer.

The first of these portraits hung opposite the windows at the right of
the entrance door and was that of a chevalier in full armor, whose teeth
gleamed from under his long moustache like those of an untamed tiger.
Beginning with this formidable figure, which bore the date 1247, forty