only person awake in the house. The knockings were
repeated. She suddenly remembered that Baptiste had gone for his
holiday, and that she and her mistress were left in the house without
any further protection. All the outrages burglaries, thefts, and
murders--which were then so common in Paris, crowded upon her mind; she
was sure it was a band of cut-throats who were making all this
disturbance outside; they must be well aware how lonely the house
stood, and if let in would perpetrate some wicked deed against her
mistress; and so she remained in her room, trembling and quaking with
fear, and cursing Baptiste and his sister's wedding as well.

Meanwhile the hammering at the door was being continued; and she
fancied she heard a voice shouting at intervals, "Oh! do open the door!
For God's sake, do open the door!" At last La Martiniere's anxiety rose
to such a pitch that, taking up the lighted candle, she ran out into
the passage. There she heard quite plainly the voice of the person
knocking, "For God's sake! do open the door, please!" "Certainly,"
thought she, "that surely is not the way a robber would knock. Who
knows whether it is not some poor man being pursued and wants
protection from Mademoiselle, who is always ready to do an act of
kindness? But let us be cautious." Opening a window, she called out,
asking who was down making such a loud noise at the house-door so late
at night, awakening everybody up out of their sleep; and she
endeavoured to give her naturally deep voice as manly a tone as she
possibly could.

By the glimmer of the moon, which now broke through the dark clouds,
she could make out a tall figure, enveloped in a light-grey mantle,
having his broad-brimmed hat pulled down right over his eyes. Then she
shouted in a loud voice, so as to be heard by the man below, "Baptiste,
Claude, Pierre, get up and go and see who this good-for-nothing
vagabond is, who is trying to break into the house." But the voice from
below made answer gently, and in a tone that had a plaintive ring in
it, "Oh! La Martiniere, I know quite well that it is you, my good
woman, however much you try to disguise your voice; I also know that
Baptiste has gone into the country, and that you are alone in the house
with your mistress. You may confidently undo the door for me; you need
have no fear. For I must positively speak with your mistress, and this
very minute." "Whatever are you thinking about?" replied La Martiniere.
"You want t