bed, trying to consult her mother’s eyes; but I had placed myself between them, so that she could not see them.  When I repeated my question, she said, ’Well, you see, I had just gone to bed, when I heard the bell ring.  I got up, and went to the window to see who could be coming so late.  I saw the servant go and open the door, a candlestick in her hand, and come back to the house, followed by a gentleman, whom I did not know.’  The countess interrupted her here, saying, ’It was a messenger from the court, who had been sent to me with an urgent letter.’  But I pretended not to hear her; and, turning still to Martha, I asked again, ’And it was this gentleman who frightened you so?’—­’Oh, no!’—­’What then?’ Out of the corner of my eye I was watching the countess.  She seemed to be terribly embarrassed.  Still she did not dare to stop her daughter.  ‘Well, doctor,’ said the little girl, ’no sooner had the gentleman gone into the house than I saw one of the statues under the trees there come down from its pedestal, move on, and glide very quietly along the avenue of lime-trees.’”

M. Folgat trembled.

“Do you remember, doctor,” he said, “the day we were questioning little Martha, she said she was terribly frightened by the statutes in the garden?”

“Yes, indeed!” replied the doctor.  “But wait a while.  The countess promptly interrupted her daughter, saying to me, ’But, dear doctor, you ought to forbid the child to have such notions in her head.  At Valpinson she never was afraid, and even at night, quite alone, and without a light, all over the house.  But here she is frightened at every thing; and, as soon as night comes, she fancies the garden is full of ghosts.  You are too big now, Martha, to think that statues, which are made of stone, can come to life, and walk about.’  The child was shuddering.

“‘The other times, mamma,’ she said, ’I was not quite sure; but this time I am sure.  I wanted to go away from the window, and I could not do it.  It was too strong for me:  so that I saw it all, saw it perfectly.  I saw the statue, the ghost, come up the avenue slowly and cautiously, and then place itself behind the last tree, the one that is nearest to the parlor window.  Then I heard a loud cry, then nothing more.  The ghost remained all the time behind the tree, and I saw all it did:  it turned to the left and the right; it drew itself up; and it crouched down.  Then, all of a sudden, two terrible cries; but, O mamma, such cries!  Then the ghost raised one arm, this way, and all of a sudden it was gone; but almost the same moment another one came out, and then disappeared, too.’”

M. Folgat was utterly overcome with amazement.

“Oh, these ghosts!” he said.