me to tell Monsieur's domestic, the very moment that he came, that Madame Lucrèce is in your room."
"In my room?" I exclaimed, grasping the rail of the staircase with all my strength.
"Yes, Monsieur. And it appears that she is going, too, for she gave me a little bundle. I have put it in the boot."
My Heart was beating violently. I cannot describe the mingled feeling of superstitious terror and curiosity that had taken possession of me. I ascended the staircase, step by step. When I reached the first story (my room was on the second), the waiter who was preceding me made a misstep and the candle that he was carrying fell from his hand and was extinguished. He begged a million pardons and went down to relight it, but I kept on ascending.
Already my hand was on the handle of my door. I hesitated. What new vision was about to greet my sight? More than once the story of the bleeding nun had recurred to my memory in the darkness; was I, like Don Alonso, possessed by a demon? It seemed to me that the waiter was horribly slow in returning with the candle.
I opened my door. Praise be to Heaven! there was a light in my bedroom. I passed with rapid steps through the small sitting-room from which it opened. A glance was sufficient to show me that there was no one in my sleeping-room, but I immediately heard, close at my heels, light footsteps and the rustling of a woman's dress. I think that the hair upon my head stood straight on end. I wheeled about abruptly.
A woman, dressed all in white, with a black mantilla
