I have a sudden childish desire to enter that
singular house. Do you see those window-frames painted red, and the
red lines on the doors and shutters? Doesn't the place look to you as
if it belonged to the devil?--perhaps he inherited it from the monks.
Come, let us pursue the black and white lady--forward, march!" cried
Philippe, with forced gaiety.
At that instant the two huntsmen heard a cry that was something like
that of a mouse caught in a trap. They listened. The rustle of a few
shrubs sounded in the silence like the murmur of a breaking wave. In
vain they listened for other sounds; the earth was dumb, and kept the
secret of those light steps, if, indeed, the unknown woman moved at
all.
"It is very singular!" said Philippe, as they skirted the park wall.
The two friends presently reached a path in the forest which led to
the village of Chauvry. After following this path some way toward the
main road to Paris, they came to another iron gate which led to the
principal facade of the mysterious dwelling. On this side the
dilapidation and disorder of the premises had reached their height.
Immense cracks furrowed the walls of the house, which was built on
three sides of a square. Fragments of tiles and slates lying on the
ground, and the dilapidated condition of the roofs, were evidence of a
total want of care on the part of the owners.
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