s never leave; those of friends lately
arrested; those of so many, many noble men and women. Was I going to be
a coward? So the examples set by these others turned my attention from
myself, calmed me, gave me strength. I could hear the voice of Colonel
P----, who, impatient of my aunt's parleying, briefly bade her hold her
tongue, and conduct him to the presence of her niece, Mademoiselle
Sophie. That voice, rude and gross, had the effect of changing the moral
depression which I had felt a moment ago into a sort of intense nervous
excitement; and at the moment when the Colonel, followed by his men,
appeared upon the threshold of the dining-room, honouring me with the
very least respectful of bows, I, instead of saluting him in return, met
him with a gaze as fixed and haughty as his own.

[Illustration: "MET HIM WITH A GAZE AS FIXED AND HAUGHTY AS HIS OWN."]

A minute later the Colonel was installed at the dinner-table, with the
whole household arraigned before him, and everybody forbidden to leave
the room. He asked my aunt Vera for the keys of the house, and the
search began. The gendarmes scattered themselves through all the rooms,
through the garden, the courtyard, the offices, and turned everything
upside down, emptying wardrobes and cupboards, unmaking the beds, moving
the articles of furniture to see that nothing was hidden behind them,
and trying the screws to discover if there were any secret drawers. In
my bedroom, which was of course the object of a very particular
attention, a spy dressed in civilian's costume got up on the tables and
chairs, and tapped on the walls. Another drew the ashes, still hot, from
the stove, and examined them by the light of a lamp, held by a big
gendarme. From time to time these men would come back to the
dining-room, bringing armfuls of books, and school papers belonging to
my cousins, which they would deposit upon the table before Colonel
P----. After looking them over, he would throw them aside with such
manifest ill humour, that I, who by this time had myself completely
under control, couldn't let the occasion pass to condole with him on the
sad nature of his trade. The whole search was a useless and odious
farce, for I knew that there was nothing in the house of the kind they
were looking for. Still I wasn't sorry to let them prolong it, for that
gave me more time to stay there at home, beside my aunt Vera, who,
smaller and feebler and paler than ever, turned her dear eyes, ful