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"It is she!" cried Philippe, recovering his senses. "Who is she?" asked d'Albon. "Stephanie. Ah, dead and living, living and mad! I fancied I was dying."
A hoarse cry, uttered by Genevieve, seemed uttered as a warning to the unknown woman, who turned suddenly, throwing back her hair from either side of her face. At this instant the colonel and Monsieur d'Albon could distinctly see her features; she, herself, perceiving the two friends, sprang to the iron railing with the lightness and rapidity of a deer.
Monsieur d'Albon shuddered as he saw the utter abandonment of the body, the careless animal ease which revealed in the hapless woman a total absence of soul. "Philippe, Philippe!" he muttered, "the past horrors are nothing! Is there no hope?" he asked. The old physician raised his eyes to heaven. "Adieu, monsieur," said the marquis, pressing his hand. "My friend is expecting me.
"This way, d'Albon, this way," he called back to his friend, pointing to a broad paved path and reading aloud the sign: "'From Baillet to Ile-Adam. We shall certainly find the path to Cassan, which must branch from this one between here and Ile-Adam." "You are right, colonel," said Monsieur d'Albon, replacing upon his head the cap with which he had been fanning himself.
To these questions, and to a host of others poured out in succession upon her by the two friends, she made no answer save gurgling sounds in the throat, more like animal sounds than anything uttered by a human voice. "Don't you see that she is deaf and dumb?" said M. d'Albon. "Minorites!" the peasant woman said at last. "Ah! she is right.
"If you had actually hit Madame la Comtesse, you would have done less harm to her." "Well, well, then, we can neither of us complain, for the sight of the Countess all but killed my friend, M. de Sucy." "The Baron de Sucy, is it possible?" cried the doctor, clasping his hands. "Has he been in Russia? was he in the Beresina?" "Yes," answered d'Albon.
It was calculated that, in less than five minutes, this balloon rose to the height of 6,000 feet. On the 16th of the same month the Count d'Albon threw off from his gardens at Franconville a balloon inflated with gas, and made of silk, rendered air-tight by a solution of gum-arabic. It was oblong, and measured twenty-five feet in height, and seventeen feet in diameter.
M. de Sucy has had some very violent shock; he is a man of strong passions, but, with his temperament, the first shock decides everything. He will very likely be out of danger to-morrow." The doctor was perfectly right. The next day the patient was allowed to see his friend. "I want you to do something for me, dear d'Albon," Philip said, grasping his friend's hand.
The huntsmen heard nothing but the curiously sharp noise of a rusty spring. Though very dilapidated, a little door made in the wall beside the iron gates resisted all their efforts to open it. "Well, well, this is getting to be exciting," said de Sucy to his companion. "If I were not a magistrate," replied Monsieur d'Albon, "I should think that woman was a witch."
Then, throwing the end of his cigar into the ditch, he cried out vehemently: "I swear by Saint Hubert that never again will I trust myself in unknown territory with a statesman, though he be, like you, my dear d'Albon, a college mate." "But, Philippe, have you forgotten your French?
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