at a sound behind the tapestry, which was more
like the scuttering of rats and mice than anything else, both Madame de
Mioumiou and the chasseur started with the most eager look of anxiety on
their countenances, and by their restless movements--madame's panting,
and the fiery dilation of his eyes--one might see that commonplace
sounds affected them both in a manner very different to the rest of the
company. The ugly husband of the lovely lady with the roses now
addressed himself to me.

"We are much disappointed," he said, "in finding that monsieur is not
accompanied by his countryman--le grand Jean d'Angleterre; I cannot
pronounce his name rightly"--and he looked at me to help him out.

"Le grand Jean d'Angleterre!" now who was le grand Jean d'Angleterre?
John Bull? John Russell? John Bright?

"Jean--Jean"--continued the gentleman, seeing my embarrassment. "Ah,
these terrible English names--'Jean de Geanquilleur!'"

I was as wise as ever. And yet the name struck me as familiar, but
slightly disguised. I repeated it to myself. It was mighty like John the
Giant-killer, only his friends always call that worthy "Jack." I said
the name aloud.

"Ah, that is it!" said he. "But why has he not accompanied you to our
little reunion to-night?"

I had been rather puzzled once or twice before, but this serious question
added considerably to my perplexity. Jack the Giant-killer had once, it
is true, been rather an intimate friend of mine, as far as (printer's)
ink and paper can keep up a friendship, but I had not heard his name
mentioned for years; and for aught I knew he lay enchanted with King
Arthur's knights, who lie entranced until the blast of the trumpets of
four mighty kings shall call them to help at England's need. But the
question had been asked in serious earnest by that gentleman, whom I
more wished to think well of me than I did any other person in the room.
So I answered respectfully that it was long since I had heard anything
of my countryman; but that I was sure it would have given him as much
pleasure as it was doing myself to have been present at such an agreeable
gathering of friends. He bowed, and then the lame lady took up the word.

"To-night is the night when, of all the year, this great old forest
surrounding the castle is said to be haunted by the phantom of a little
peasant girl who once lived hereabouts; the tradition is that she was
devoured by a wolf. In former days I have seen her on this night