pointed. It is perhaps two hundred feet deep, with a front
of one hundred feet, flanked by pointed towers and approached by a broad
flight of steps leading to a massive square pavilion. It is very rich in
ornamented detail of cut stone, all remaining in place and perfectly
preserved. This M. Gambeau calls distinctively 'the new house,' as it is
supposed to be less than two hundred years old. It is connected by curtain
walls with the chapel on one side, and on the other with the old chateau,
some of whose great square towers, built of the red stone of the country,
must be very ancient indeed. The facade of 'the new house' fronts on a
broad terrace, which descends ten or twelve feet to stone-paved
courtyards, the whole enclosed by moat and wall. This facade and terrace,
as also the broad steps leading to the paved courts, are decorated with
statuary in profusion. The windows of the second story have light,
graceful balconies, hung up like festoons of flowers. Grotesque gargoyles
cling to every corner, and each projection and angle is turned to ornament
in fine designs of cut stone.

"All the sky-lines of this beautiful building are perfect, and the entire
upper part looks indeed like a 'new house,' so bright and fair does it
remain. But the lower stories and the adjoining grounds tell the story of
desertion and decay. Over, around and through the entire demesne climbs
and twines and trails the veiling vegetation of a hundred years, filling
the arched doorways, screening the windows, hanging from the parapets, and
covering the pavements with a disguise of greenery, like a masque half
hiding the face of a court beauty."

Finishing his sketch, Perry was about to run up the marble steps, but the
intendant detained him, politely but decidedly stating that this could not
be permitted. "When M. le Comte descended those steps he commanded that
human creature should rest not the foot there until his return. And no
person has ever passed there, unless, possibly, himself."

"How himself? Has he ever returned, then?"

"Who knows? I have never seen him, at least; and I have no envy for that,
comprehend well. When one sees him 'tis time to make one's peace; and I
hope my time has not yet come."

"This becomes interesting. There is a tradition, is there not?"

"One says it. When I was a child my grandfather came home from here one
day very sad, very silent, gave his keys to my father, sent for the cure.
Behold, the end! What one s