to her terror. Rays of light coming down the steps
made her fear that this retreat was only too well known to her enemies,
and, to escape them, she summoned fresh energy. Some moments later,
after recovering her composure of mind, it was difficult for her to
conceive by what means she had been able to climb a little wall, in a
recess of which she was now hidden. She took no notice at first of the
cramped position in which she was, but before long the pain of it became
intolerable, for she was bending double under the arched opening of
a vault, like the crouching Venus which ignorant persons attempt to
squeeze into too narrow a niche. The wall, which was rather thick and
built of granite, formed a low partition between the stairway and the
cellar whence the groans were issuing. Presently she saw an individual,
clothed in a goatskin, enter the cave beneath her, and move about,
without making any sign of eager search. Impatient to discover if she
had any chance of safety, Mademoiselle de Verneuil waited with anxiety
till the light brought by the new-comer lighted the whole cave, where
she could partly distinguish a formless but living mass which was trying
to reach a part of the wall, with violent and repeated jerks, something
like those of a carp lying out of water on a shore.

A small pine torch threw its blue and hazy light into the cave. In
spite of the gloomy poetic effects which Mademoiselle de Verneuil's
imagination cast about this vaulted chamber, which was echoing to the
sounds of a pitiful prayer, she was obliged to admit that the place was
nothing more than an underground kitchen, evidently long abandoned. When
the formless mass was distinguishable it proved to be a short and very
fat man, whose limbs were carefully bound before he had been left lying
on the damp stone floor of the kitchen by those who had seized him. When
he saw the new-comer approach him with a torch in one hand and a fagot
of sticks in the other, the captive gave a dreadful groan, which so
wrought upon the sensibilities of Mademoiselle de Verneuil that she
forgot her own terror and despair and the cramped position of her limbs,
which were growing numb. But she made a great effort and remained
still. The Chouan flung the sticks into the fireplace, after trying the
strength of an old crane which was fastened to a long iron bar; then he
set fire to the wood with his torch. Marie saw with terror that the man
was the same Pille-Miche to whom her r