astened with iron chains. Already astonished by
this singularity, she was about mechanically to draw towards her an
armchair placed against the wall, when she found that it remained
motionless. She then discovered that the back of this piece of furniture,
as well as that of all the other chairs, was fastened to the wainscoting
by iron clamps. Unable to repress a smile, she exclaimed: "Have they so
little confidence in the statesman in whose house I am, that they are
obliged to fasten the furniture to the walls?"

Adrienne had recourse to this somewhat forced pleasantry as a kind of
effort to resist the painful feeling of apprehension that was gradually
creeping over her; for the most profound and mournful silence reigned in
this habitation, where nothing indicated the life, the movement and the
activity, which usually surround a great centre of business. Only, from
time to time, the young lady heard the violent gusts of wind from
without.

More than a quarter of an hour had elapsed, and M. Baleinier did not
return. In her impatient anxiety, Adrienne wished to call some one to
inquire about the doctor and the minister. She raised her eyes to look
for a bell-rope by the side of the chimney-glass; she found none, but she
perceived, that what she had hitherto taken for a glass, thanks to the
half obscurity of the room, was in reality a large sheet of shining tin.
Drawing nearer to it, she accidentally touched a bronzed candlestick; and
this, as well as a clock, was fixed to the marble of the chimney-piece.

In certain dispositions of mind, the most insignificant circumstances
often assume terrific proportions. This immovable candlestick, this
furniture fastened to the wainscot, this glass replaced by a tin sheet,
this profound silence, and the prolonged absence of M. Baleinier, had
such an effect upon Adrienne, that she was struck with a vague terror.
Yet such was her implicit confidence in the doctor, that she reproached
herself with her own fears, persuading herself that the causes of them
were after all of no real importance, and that it was unreasonable to
feel uneasy at such trifles.

Still, though she thus strove to regain courage, her anxiety induced her
to do what otherwise she would never have attempted. She approached the
little door by which the doctor had disappeared, and applied her ear to
it. She held her breath, and listened, but heard nothing.

Suddenly, a dull, heavy sound, like that of a falling body,