e second instance
contradicts the first."

"It is true," answered the cure, "no possible conclusion can be drawn
from two facts which contradict each other, and the best thing we can do
is to choose a less dismal subject of conversation."

"Monsieur Derues;" asked Monsieur de Lamatte, "if you are not too tired
with your journey, shall we go and look at the last improvements I have
made? It is now your affair to decide upon them, since I shall shortly
be only your guest here."

"Just as I have been yours for long enough, and I trust you will often
give me the opportunity of exercising hospitality in my turn. But you
are ill, the day is cold and damp; if you do not care to go out, do not
let me disturb you. Had you not better stay by the fire with Monsieur
le cure? For me, Heaven be thanked! I require no assistance. I will
look round the park, and come back presently to tell you what I think.
Besides, we shall have plenty of time to talk about it. With your
permission, I should like to stay two or three days."

"I shall be pleased if you will do so."

Derues went out, sufficiently uneasy in his mind, both on account of his
reception of Monsieur de Lamotte's fears and of the manner in which the
latter had watched him during the conversation. He walked quickly up and
down the park--

"I have been foolish, perhaps; I have lost twelve or fifteen days, and
delayed stupidly from fear of not foreseeing everything. But then, how
was I to imagine that this simple, easily deceived man would all at once
become suspicious? What a strange dream! If I had not been on my guard,
I might have been disconcerted. Come, come, I must try to disperse these
ideas and give him something else to think about."

He stopped, and after a few minutes consideration turned back towards
the house.

As soon as he had left the room, Monsieur de Lamotte had bent over
towards the cure, and had said--

"He did not show any emotion, did--he?"

"None whatever."

"He did not start when I spoke of the man armed with those two daggers?"

"No. But put aside these ideas; you must see they are mistaken."

"I did not tell everything, my father: this murderer whom I saw in
my dream--was Derues himself! I know as well as you that it must be a
delusion, I saw as well as you did that he remained quite calm, but, in
spite of myself, this terrible dream haunts me.... There, do not listen
to me, do not let me talk about it; it only makes me blush for myself."