"And what did he wear?" I asked, in spite of myself, more and more interested in the recital.
"Oh, he was well clothed: a great dark-coloured redingote, a black cravat, and the cross of honour. With all this a face the colour of copper and a large bony frame, quite in the style of my old commandant Calebasse, chief of squadron in the Ninth Hussars,—a great old tough, all muscles and bones."
"And have you never heard him spoken of since?"
"Non, monsieur. Ah, I forgot to tell you that while I was waiting there I heard something like two or three shots. That is all; perhaps some one was shooting thrushes in the vineyards."
The heavy square box had made such an impression on my mind that I shivered, thinking that here, perhaps, had taken place in this lonely spot some bloody and unwitnessed duel, had not the ruse resorted to by this personage, in order to be driven rapidly and at little expense, seemed to contradict all idea of a combat. Such a foolish idea seemed unnatural in such a solemn time. What struck me as extremely singular was that no one had returned from this strange village, where, as my guide said, "folks go, but never come back."
However, the notary had assured me that the only important habitation was the one that was offered for sale. What, then, had become of the travellers in the first carriage? And where was he who went in the berlingot?
I puzzled about it all until my head felt dizzy, and I longed to be at —— so as to clear up this strange mystery.
When my guide had told me about the carriage with the blinds pulled down, I had thought of a runaway match, but the courier and the servants seemed ill suited to the secrecy desired in an elopement.
However, this old man who arrived two years afterwards, his strange manners, the pistol-shots, and then the sudden disappearance of every one,—certainly these were extraordinary circumstances and my curiosity was at the highest pitch.
"Here we are at last at ——, monsieur," said the guide. "You will admit that there is a fine view. And, see, monsieur, it is right here near this dead plantain-tree that I set down the old fellow of the berlingot."