More and more alarmed, the young girl flew to the little door by which the physician had disappeared, and at which she had just been listening.  This door also was fastened on the outside.

Still, wishing to struggle with the terror which was gaining invincibly upon her, Adrienne called to her aid all the firmness of her character, and tried to argue away her fears.

“I must have been deceived.” she said; “it was only a fall that I heard.  The moaning had no existence, except in my imagination.  There are a thousand reasons for believing that it was not a person who fell down.  But, then, these locked doors?  They, perhaps, do not know that I am here; they may have thought that there was nobody in this room.”

As she uttered these words, Adrienne looked round with anxiety; then she added, in a firm voice:  “No weakness! it is useless to try to blind myself to my real situation.  On the contrary, I must look it well in the face.  It is evident that I am not here at a minister’s house; no end of reasons prove it beyond a doubt; M. Baleinier has therefore deceived me.  But for what end?  Why has he brought me hither?  Where am I?”

The last two questions appeared to Adrienne both equally insoluble.  It only remained clear, that she was the victim of M. Baleinier’s perfidy.  But this certainly seemed so horrible to the young girl’s truthful and generous soul, that she still tried to combat the idea by the recollection of the confiding friendship which she had always shown this man.  She said to herself with bitterness:  “See how weakness and fear may lead one to unjust and odious suspicions!  Yes; for until the last extremity, it is not justifiable to believe in so infernal a deception—­and then only upon the clearest evidence.  I will call some one:  it is the only way of completely satisfying these doubts.”  Then, remembering that there was no bell, she added:  “No matter; I will knock, and some one will doubtless answer.”  With her little, delicate hand, Adrienne struck the door several times.

The dull, heavy sound which came from the door showed that it was very thick.  No answer was returned to the young girl.  She ran to the other door.  There was the same appeal on her part, the same profound silence without—­only interrupted from time to time by the howling of the wind.

“I am not more timid than other people,” said Adrienne, shuddering; “I do not know if it is the excessive cold, but I tremble in spite of myself.  I endeavor to guard against all weakness; yet I think that any one in my position would find all this very strange and frightful.”

At this instant, loud cries, or rather savage and dreadful howls, burst furiously from the room just above, and soon after a sort of stamping of feet, like the noise of a violent struggle, shook the ceiling of the apartment.  Struck with consternation, Adrienne uttered a loud cry of terror became deadly pale, stood for a moment motionless with affright, and then rushed to one of the windows, and abruptly threw it open.