Immediately the remembrance of the violent spasmodic movement of his hand came back to my mind, and I asked him:
“But is this not the result of heredity? Are not your own nerves somewhat affected?”
He replied calmly:
“Mine? Oh, no-my nerves have always been very steady.”
Then, suddenly, after a pause, he went on:
“Ah! You were alluding to the jerking movement of my hand every time I try to reach for anything? This arises from a terrible experience which I had. Just imagine, this daughter of mine was actually buried alive!”
I could only utter, “Ah!” so great were my astonishment and emotion.
He continued:
“Here is the story. It is simple. Juliette had been subject for some time to serious attacks of the heart. We believed that she had disease of that organ, and were prepared for the worst.
“One day she was carried into the house cold, lifeless, dead. She had fallen down unconscious in the garden. The doctor certified that life was extinct. I watched by her side for a day and two nights. I laid her with my own hands in the coffin, which I accompanied to the cemetery, where she was deposited in the family vault. It is situated in the very heart of Lorraine.