There, in her hands, were all the proofs that she needed; and as the thought came that there was no longer a necessity for bravery, a long, deep sob seemed to come straight from her heart. She bowed her head and sobbed.
But in the midst of her yielding to grief, a sudden sound attracted her, there in that silent house, where it seemed that even the noise of a mouse would sound deafening.
She straightened herself suddenly, and clasping her hands above her heart, listened.
There could be no mistake about it!
It was a footstep, clear and distinct, coming stealthily up the uncarpeted stairs.
For a moment her heart seemed to stand still; then, springing up, she dashed to the door.
Quivering with fright, she undertook to fasten it and bar it against entrance; but before she could succeed, a veiled figure, spectral under the light of the pale candle, stood before her, preventing the action.
[CHAPTER XXVII.]
For some moments it seemed to Leonie as though the figure that stood before her could be nothing human.