I had hardly told the baron the name of the street,
and the number of the house in which we were living,
when a tall negro, swathed up to the eyebrows in a
cloak, came up to him from behind, and softly tapped
him on the shoulder. The baron turned round,
ejaculated, ‘Aha! at last!’ and with a
slight nod to me, went with the negro into the cafe.
I was left under the awning; I meant to await the
baron’s return, not so much with the object
of entering into conversation with him again (I really
did not know what to talk about to him), as to verify
once more my first impression. But half-an-hour
passed, an hour passed.... The baron did not appear.
I went into the cafe, passed through all the rooms,
but could see nowhere the baron or the negro....
They must both have gone out by a back-door.
My head ached a little, and to get a little fresh
air, I walked along the seafront to a large park outside
the town, which had been laid out two hundred years
ago.
After strolling for a couple of hours in the shade
of the immense oaks and plane-trees, I returned home.
Our maid-servant rushed all excitement, to meet me,
directly I appeared in the hall; I guessed at once
from the expression of her face, that during my absence
something had gone wrong in our house. And, in
fact, I learnt that an hour before, a fearful shriek
had suddenly been heard in my mother’s bedroom,
the maid running in had found her on the floor in a
fainting fit, which had lasted several moments.
My mother had at last regained consciousness, but
had been obliged to lie down, and looked strange and
scared; she had not uttered a word, had not answered
inquiries, she had done nothing but look about her
and shudder. The maid had sent the gardener for
a doctor. The doctor came and prescribed soothing
treatment; but my mother would say nothing even to
him. The gardener maintained that, a few instants
after the shriek was heard in my mother’s room,
he had seen a man, unknown to him, running through
the bushes in the garden to the gate into the street.
(We lived in a house of one story, with windows opening
on to a rather large garden.) The gardener had not
time to get a look at the man’s face; but he
was tall, and was wearing a low straw hat and long
coat with full skirts ... ‘The baron’s
costume!’ at once crossed my mind. The
gardener could not overtake him; besides, he had been
immediately called into the house and sent for the
doctor. I went in to my mother; she was lying
on the bed, whiter than the pillow on which her head
was resting. Recognising me, she smiled faintly,
and held out her hand to me. I sat down beside
her, and began to question her; at first she said no
to everything; at last she admitted, however, that
she had seen something which had greatly terrified
her. ‘Did some one come in here?’
I asked. ‘No,’ she hurriedly replied—’no
one came in, it was my fancy ... an apparition....’
