as I could make it out is the darkness,
to allay mademoiselle's suspicions. Knowing, however, that people of
position are often obliged in towns to lodge in poor houses, I thought
nothing of this, and only strove to get mademoiselle dismounted as
quickly as possible. The lad groped about and found two rings beside the
door, and to these I tied up the horses. Then, bidding him lead the way,
and begging mademoiselle to follow, I plunged into the darkness of the
passage and felt my way to the foot of the staircase, which was entirely
unlighted, and smelled close and unpleasant.

'Which floor?' I asked my guide.

'The fourth,' he answered quietly.

'Morbleu!' I muttered, as I began to ascend, my hand on the wall. 'What
is the meaning of this?'

For I was perplexed. The revenues of Marsac, though small, should have
kept; my mother, whom I had last seen in Paris before the Nemours
edict, in tolerable comfort--such modest comfort, at any rate, as could
scarcely be looked for in such a house as this--obscure, ill-tended,
unlighted. To my perplexity was added, before I reached the top of
the stairs, disquietude--disquietude on her account as well as on
mademoiselle's. I felt that something was wrong, and would have given
much to recall the invitation I had pressed on the latter.

What the young lady thought herself I could pretty well guess, as I
listened to her hurried breathing at my shoulder. With every step I
expected her to refuse to go farther. But, having once made up her
mind, she followed me stubbornly, though the darkness was such that
involuntarily I loosened my dagger, and prepared to defend myself should
this turn out to be a trap.

We reached the top, however, without accident. Our guide knocked softly
at a door and immediately opened it without waiting for an answer. A
feeble light shone out on the stair-head, and bending my head, for the
lintel was low, I stepped into the room.

I advanced two paces and stood looking about me in angry bewilderment.
The bareness of extreme poverty marked everything on which my eyes
rested. A cracked earthenware lamp smoked and sputtered on a stool in
the middle of the rotting floor. An old black cloak nailed to the wall,
and flapping to and fro in the draught like some dead gallowsbird, hung
in front of the unglazed window. A jar in a corner caught the drippings
from a hole in the roof. An iron pot and a second stool--the latter
casting a long shadow across the floor--stoo