pathos in his voice. At length he perceived Madame Dupin sitting almost
motionless on the road. 'Ah!' he said, 'there is my place.' The man, I
could not but perceive, was very weak. His eyes were twice their natural
size, his face was the colour of ashes; through his whole frame there
was a trembling; the papers shook in his hand. A compunction seized my
mind: I regretted to have sent that piece of noise and folly to disturb
a poor man so suffering and weak. 'Monsieur Lecamus,' I said, 'forgive
me. I acknowledge that it was inconsiderate. Remain here in comfort, and
I will find for this unruly fellow another place of confinement.'

'Nay,' he said, 'there is my place,' pointing to where Madame Dupin sat.
I felt disposed for a moment to indulge in a pleasantry, to say that I
approved his taste; but on second thoughts I forebore. He went tottering
slowly across the broken ground, hardly able to drag himself along. 'Has
he had any refreshment?' I asked of one of the women who were about.
They told me yes, and this restored my composure; for after all I had
not meant to annoy him, I had forgotten he was there--a trivial fault in
circumstances so exciting. I was more easy in my mind, however, I
confess it, when I saw that he had reached his chosen position safely.
The man looked so weak. It seemed to me that he might have died on the
road.

I thought I could almost perceive the gate, with Madame Dupin seated
under the battlements, her charming figure relieved against the gloom,
and that poor Lecamus lying, with his papers fluttering at her feet.
This was the last thing I was conscious of.


EXTRACT FROM THE NARRATIVE OF MADAME DUPIN DE LA CLAIRIÈRE (_née_ DE
CHAMPFLEURIE).