Every one smilingly accepted the invitation, and the magistrate, thinking that the case of little Louise Roque had occupied enough attention for one day, turned toward the mayor.
“I can have the body brought to your house, can I not? You have a room in which you can keep it for me till this evening?”
The other became confused and stammered:
“Yes—no—no. To tell the truth, I prefer that it should not come into my house on account of—on account of my servants, who are already talking about ghosts in—in my tower, in the Fox's tower. You know—I could no longer keep a single one. No—I prefer not to have it in my house.”
The magistrate began to smile.
“Good! I will have it taken at once to Roily for the legal examination.” And, turning to his deputy, he said:
“I can make use of your trap, can I not?”
“Yes, certainly.”
They all came back to the place where the corpse lay. Mother La Roque, now seated beside her daughter, was holding her hand and was staring right before her with a wandering, listless eye.
The two doctors endeavored to lead her away, so that she might not witness the dead girl's removal, but she understood at once what they wanted to do, and, flinging herself on the body, she threw both arms round it. Lying on top of the corpse, she exclaimed: