“Hallo! here she is coming back!” said Gueulin, listening.
And some one was indeed walking in the ante-room, whilst a voice said: “Well! what’s up? is every one dead?” And Octave appeared. He was quite bewildered by the open doors and the empty rooms. But his amazement increased still more when he beheld the four men in the midst of the denuded drawing-room, one sitting on the floor, and the other three standing up, and only lighted by the meager candle which the counselor was holding, like a taper at church. A few words sufficed to inform him of what had occurred.
“It isn’t possible!” cried he.
“Did they not tell you anything, then, down-stairs?” asked Gueulin.
“No, nothing at all; the doorkeeper quietly watched me come up. Ah! so she’s gone! It does not surprise me. She had such queer hair and eyes!”
He asked some particulars, and stood talking a minute, forgetful of the sad news which he had brought. Then, turning abruptly toward Duveyrier, he said:
“By the way, it’s your wife who sent me to fetch you. Your father-in-law is dying.”
“Ah!” simply observed the counselor.
“Old Vabre!” murmured Bachelard. “I expected as much.”
“Pooh! when one gets to the end of one’s reel!” remarked Gueulin, philosophically.