as completely enervated and haunted by sad
thoughts. I seemed to hear loud weeping; but in this I was no doubt
deceived. Moreover, I thought several times that I heard some one
walking up and down in the house, and who had opened my door from the
outside.

Towards morning, I was overcome by fatigue and sleep seized on me. I got
up late and did not go downstairs until breakfast time, being still in a
bewildered state, not knowing what kind of face to put on.

No one had seen Miss Harriet. We waited for her at table, but she did
not appear. At length Mother Lecacheur went to her room. The English
woman had gone out. She must have set out at break of day, as she was
wont to do, in order to see the sun rise.

Nobody seemed astonished at this and we began to eat in silence.

The weather was hot, very hot, one of those still, boiling days, when
not a leaf stirs. The table had been placed out of doors, under an apple
tree; and from time to time Sapeur had gone to the cellar to draw a jug
of cider, everybody was so thirsty. Celeste brought the dishes from the
kitchen, a ragout of mutton with potatoes, a cold rabbit and a salad.
Afterwards she placed before us a dish of strawberries, the first of the
season.

As I wanted to wash and refresh these, I begged the servant to go and
bring a pitcher of cold water.

In about five minutes she returned, declaring that the well was dry. She
had lowered the pitcher to the full extent of the cord, and had touched
the bottom, but on drawing the pitcher up again, it was empty. Mother
Lecacheur, anxious to examine the thing for herself, went and looked
down the hole. She returned announcing that one could see clearly
something in the well, something altogether unusual. But this, no doubt,
was pottles of straw, which, out of spite, had been cast down it by a
neighbor.

I wished also to look down the well, hoping I would be able to clear up
the mystery, and perched myself close to its brink. I perceived,
indistinctly, a white object. What could it be? I then conceived the
idea of lowering a lantern at the end of a cord. When I did so, the
yellow flame danced on the layers of stone and gradually became clearer.
All the four of us were leaning over the opening, Sapeur and Celeste
having now joined us. The lantern rested on a black and white,
indistinct mass, singular, incomprehensible. Sapeur exclaimed:

"It is a horse. I see the hoofs. It must have escaped from the meadow,
during the ni