spectacles, said, "Ah, is it so?" in a kind of
triumphant tone which Madame designated as "_bete_." Indeed, to those
unacquainted with what was passing in M. Boiset's mind, it must have
seemed particularly stupid.

When breakfast was over he possessed himself of Godfrey, and led him to
the observatory, where the stove was already lit, though this was not
usual in the daytime, especially on Sundays.

"Now, my boy, tell me all about it," he said, and Godfrey told him,
feebly suggesting that it might have been a nightmare.

"Nightmare! Nonsense. The witch Riennes has sent her demon to torment
you, that is all. I thought she would. It is quite according to rule, a
most clear and excellent case. Indeed, I _am_ a lucky student."

"I don't believe in witches," said Godfrey, "I always heard they were
rubbish."

"Ah! I don't know. Here in the mountains these Swiss people believe in
them, and tell strange stories, some of which I have heard as their
Pasteur, especially when I held office among the High Alps. Also the
Bible speaks of them often, does it not, and what was, is, and shall
be, as Solomon says. Oh! why hesitate? Without doubt this woman is a
witch who poses as an innocent modern spiritualist. But she shall not
send her pretty female devil after you again, for I will make that room
impossible to her."

"Please do," said Godfrey. "And as for Madame Riennes, it is certainly
strange that she should have known about the things I had in my pocket
the other day, although of course, she may have followed me into the
shops."

"Yes, yes, she followed you into the shops, she or her demon, though
perhaps you would not see her there. What did you tell me? That in the
villa you thought that the dead Mademoiselle was warning you against
something? Well, perhaps she was, for she was a good woman, though weak
and foolish to trust to spiritualism, and now, without doubt, she sees
all, and would protect you of whom she is fond."

"Then I wish she had done it a little better," said Godfrey. "Oh!
listen, there's a rap!"

A rap there was certainly, on the hot iron of the stove, a resonant,
ringing rap. The Pasteur advanced and made an examination, and while he
was doing so there came another. What is more, in a most inexplicable
fashion his blue spectacles flew from his nose. Very solemnly he found
and replaced them and then, with the utmost dignity, addressing himself
to the stove, he cursed and exorcised that article of domesti