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 "Dead don't return!" he exclaimed, shaking his head. "Dead never return; besides, why dead, John? Not dead! Still two Mauprats! Who knows? Where the devil? Dead don't return; and my master mad? Never. Ill? No."

After this colloquy the sergeant went and fetched a light, drew his faithful sword from the scabbard, whistled Blaireau, and bravely seized the rope which served as a balustrade for the staircase, requesting me to remain below. Great as was my repugnance to entering the room again, I did not hesitate to follow Marcasse, in spite of his recommendation. Our first care was to examine the bed; but while we had been talking in the courtyard the servant had brought clean sheets, had made the bed, and was now smoothing the blankets.

"Who has been sleeping there?" asked Marcasse, with his usual caution.

"Nobody," she replied, "except M. le Chevalier or M. l'Abbé Aubert, in the days when they used to come."

"But yesterday, or to-day, I mean?" said Marcasse.

"Oh! yesterday and to-day, nobody, sir; for it is quite two years since M. le Chevalier came here; and as for M. l'Abbé, he never sleeps here, now that he comes alone. He arrives in the morning, has lunch with us, and goes back in the evening."

"But the bed was disarranged," said Marcasse, looking at her attentively.

"Oh, well! that may be, sir," she replied. "I do not know how they left it the last time some one slept here; I did not pay any attention to that as I put on the sheets; all I know is that M. Bernard's cloak was lying on the top."