Now that she had seen him safe and well, as she supposed, her anxiety ceased. She reproached herself for having passed the night in worrying. “What a night I have passed! And all for nothing! But it is over now. I shall never be such a fool again.”
By some strange fatality, each time either of them had made overtures to the other some awkward step on the part of the latter had prevented a reconciliation. Reflecting upon this fact, Catherine became the more incensed. Seated upon the edge of her bed she waited. At about half-past six she heard approaching footsteps. Suddenly an awful shriek was given, and then followed the sound of running feet. Catherine listened with every nerve on the alert. Soon a voice said: “Firmin is the man who dealt this blow—the ruffian!”
“What can have happened?” Catherine asked herself, as she crept to the window and looked out. The heavens away in the east were violet and rose tinted; while Aurora, beautiful as a dream, was ascending the sky.
“He is dead,” said a voice under the window.
“Dead, dead!” repeated Catherine, her eyes dilating with horror. “Merciful heavens! Not dead?”
She vaguely comprehended that they were speaking of her husband. A low murmur of voices arose from the spot where the gamekeeper lay; but the peasants, superstitiously awed, dared not touch the body, and all were speaking in suppressed tones. More than one whispered to his neighbor that Madame Catherine might be able to name the murderer.
“She is a D’Angerolles, you know,” added another, significantly.
Every moment some new-comer joined the crowd which surrounded poor Savin’s body.
“Come, let us go inside,” at last suggested one of the men. But upon trying the door he found it locked, and knocked loudly. Endeavoring to compose herself, Catherine hastily arranged her dress, and crossed the room toward the staircase. In passing before the mirror that surmounted the mantelpiece she involuntarily looked in the glass. By the dim gray light a shadow seemed to rest upon her face.
“My God! what is it?” she cried in terror.