"So there really was a cavern underneath," I said. "There was a tradition to that effect, and my father always believed that such a cavern existed, and that it had some connection with the sea."
"It might have a connection with the infernal regions, judging from the sounds which proceed from it," said my uncle. "I was near falling into it headlong. It is the more vexatious because there are niches around the wall which have evidently been built up—one even quite lately."
"And they are quite inaccessible?" said my aunt.
"Oh, entirely. The whole building is so ruinous that one enters it only at the risk of one's life."
"The niches are only burial-places," I ventured to say, thinking at the same time that poor Grace's grave would now at least be safe from insult.
"Yes, but they may have been used for deposits of another sort. However, there is no use in thinking more about the matter. You are looking better, Vevette. I am glad to see you try to put on a more cheerful face. Your countenance lately has been a perpetual kill-joy—fit only for a convent of Carmelites."
Indeed, my health had improved. The very thought of escape, impracticable as it seemed at present, had put new life into me. I began to take a little care of myself, and to be anxious to acquire strength.
"I do not think, my friend, that the convent of the Carmelites will be Vevette's vocation," said my aunt, smiling. "I have an affair of great importance to lay before you when we are at leisure."
A cold chill struck to my heart as I heard these words and guessed what they might mean. The event proved that my forebodings were well founded. There was a certain Monsieur de Luynes, an elderly gentleman of good family, and very wealthy, who often visited my aunt, being indeed some sort of connection. This gentleman had lost his wife many years before, and having married off all his daughters, he had conceived the idea of providing a companion and nurse for his declining years. He was hideously ugly—tall, shambling, with bushy gray eyebrows, and a great scar on his cheek which had affected the shape of one of his eyes; but his manners were amiable and kind, and he had the reputation of leading a remarkably good life. He had always taken a good deal of notice of me, and had once or twice drawn me into conversation as I sat at my aunt's side, and I had thought him very agreeable. It was this Monsieur de Luynes who now made a formal proposal for my hand. I was not at all consulted in the matter. I was simply called into my aunt's boudoir, told of the proposal which had been made, and ordered to consider myself the future wife of Monsieur de Luynes.
"There is no reason for any delay," said my aunt. "Monsieur, who is himself very wealthy, does not ask for any dot with you. The trousseau can be prepared in a few days, and I will engage it shall be a fine one. You will be a happy woman, petite."