mselves in a sort of nervous attack,
which followed the abominable scandal raised by the affair of Louise
Morel, while in his service."

A sort of aguish shivering ran over the notary.

"Is it possible that you, sir, are acquainted with that unfortunate
girl's story?" inquired the priest, greatly astonished. "I imagined you
had only been in Paris a few days."

"And you were correctly informed; but my good friend Jacques told me all
about it, as a man would relate such a circumstance to his friend and
physician, since he attributed the nervous shock under which he is now
labouring to the excessive indignation awakened in his mind by the
discovery of his servant's crime. But that is not all. My poor friend's
sympathies have been still more painfully awakened by a fresh blow,
which, as you perceive, has had a very serious effect on his health. An
old and faithful servant, attached to him by many years of well-requited
service--"

"You allude to the untimely end of Madame Seraphin, I presume," said the
cure, interrupting Polidori. "I heard of the melancholy affair; she was
drowned, I believe, from some carelessness or imprudence manifested by
her while making one in a party of pleasure. I can quite understand the
distress such a circumstance must have occasioned M. Ferrand, whose kind
heart would be unable to forget that she who was thus snatched from life
had, for ten long years, been his faithful, zealous domestic; far from
blaming such regrets, I think them but natural, and reflecting as much
honour on the survivor as the deceased."

"M. l'Abbe," said the notary, "let me beseech of you to cease commending
my virtues; you confuse--you make me really uncomfortable."

"And who, then, shall speak of them as they deserve?" asked Polidori,
with feigned affection. "Will you? Oh, no! But, M. l'Abbe, you shall
have a fresh opportunity of praising him as he deserves. Listen! You
are, perhaps, ignorant that Jacques took a third servant, to replace
Louise Morel and Madame Seraphin? If you are not aware of that fact, you
have still to learn all his goodness towards poor Cecily; for that was
the name of the new domestic, M. l'Abbe."

Involuntarily the notary sprung from his seat, and with eyes glaring
with rage and madness, even in spite of the glasses he wore, he cried,
while a deep, fiery glow overspread his before livid countenance:

"Silence! I command! I insist! I forbid another word on this subject!"

"Come, come!" sai