The doors were all closed; the trunks stood corded in the hall.  I was down-stairs, getting the silver together.  Monsieur was in his room, packing up his medicine-chest.  There was no weakness in my nerves now, no trembling in my limbs.  I was determined.  While thus engaged, pausing a moment amid the light tinkle of the silver spoons, I thought I heard footsteps in the saloon above.  Softly ascending the stairs, I met Monsieur at the door.  He had come down under the same impression, that some one was walking in the saloon, still holding in his hand the tiny cup in which he measured his medicines.  It was full, and Monsieur carried it very carefully, as, opening the door, he looked cautiously about.  Nothing stirred; all was silent as death; and walking forward toward the fountain, he straightened himself up, and his white face flushed as he said in a whisper,—­

“Christine, everything is ready.  We are safe yet; we shall escape.  Once away, we will never return to this doomed place, let what will come of it.  Yes, I am certain that we shall escape!”

Monsieur took a step forward as he said this, and stood transfixed.  The light shook which he held in his hand, as if a strong wind had passed over it; his eye quailed; his cheek blanched to ghastly whiteness.  I thought that undue excitement had brought on a fainting-fit of some kind, and was stooping to dip my hands in the water and bathe his forehead, when I saw, distinctly, like a white mist in the darkness, a visible shape sitting solemn upon the basin-edge; the room was very dim, and the falling spray fell over the shape like a weeping-willow, yet my eyes discerned it clearly.  Oh, it was no dream that I had dreamed in my young days long ago!  That little figure was no stranger to my vision, no stranger to the changeless waterfall.  Did Monsieur see it also?  He stood close beside the fountain now, with his face towards the spectre.  The tiny cup in his hand fell from the loosened fingers down into the water; a lonely gold-fish, swimming there, turned over on its golden side and floated motionless upon the surface.

I scarcely noticed this, for, at the time, I heard the knob of the shop-door turn quickly, and the door was shaken violently.  It was probably the night-watchman going his rounds; but, in my alarm and excitement, I thought we were betrayed.  I stepped swiftly to the door, and pushed an extra bolt inside.

“Monsieur!” I cried, under my breath, “hide! hide yourself!  Quick! in the name of Heaven!”

But he did not answer, and, hastening to his side, I saw the faint outlines of that shadowy visitant growing indistinct and disappearing.  As it vanished, Monsieur turned deliberately toward me; his eyes were clear, the faintness was over; his voice was grave and steady, as he said,—­

“Christine!  I have seen it.  It is the warning of death.  There is no future and no escape for me.  The retribution is at hand,”—­and stooping swiftly down, he lifted the tiny cup brimming to his lips.  “Go you,” he said, huskily, “to the sea-shore.  I have an errand elsewhere.”