“One night, when my mother could not sleep, her attention was attracted by a dull noise down-stairs, as if some one were shutting a trap-door clumsily.  She lay awake all night uneasily, listening, but in vain.  Next morning we found the room down-stairs in its usual condition; but my mother would not admit that she had been dreaming, and the same day spoke to Mme. de Combray, who joked her about it, and sent her to the gardener.  The latter said he had made the noise.  Passing the tower he had imagined that the door was not firmly closed, and had pushed against it to make sure.  The incident did not occur again; but several days later there was a new, and this time more serious, alarm.

“I had noticed on top of the tower a blackbird’s nest, which could easily be reached from the platform, but, faithful to orders, I had never gone up there.  This time, however, the temptation was too strong.  I watched until my mother and the servant were in our little garden, and then climbed nimbly up to take the nest.  On the landing of the second floor, curious to get a peep at the uninhabited rooms, I pushed open the door, and saw distinctly behind the glass door in the partition that separated the two rooms, a green curtain drawn quickly.  In a great fright I rushed down-stairs head over heels, and ran into the garden, calling my mother and shouting, ’There is some one up-stairs in the room!’ She did not believe it and scolded me.  As I insisted she followed me up-stairs with the servant.  From the landing my mother cried, ’Is any one there?’ Silence.  She pushed open the glass door.  No one to be seen—­only a folding-bed, unmade.  She touched it; it was warm!  Some one had been there, asleep,—­dressed, no doubt.  Where was he?  On the platform?  We went up.  No one was there!  He had no doubt escaped when I ran to the garden!

“We went down again quickly and our servant called the gardener.  He had disappeared.  We saddled the donkey, and my mother went hurry-scurry to the chateau.  She found the lawyer at the eternal tric-trac with Mme. de Combray, who frowned at the first word, not even interrupting her game.

“‘More dreams!  The room is unoccupied!  No one sleeps there!’

“‘But the curtain!’

“’Well, what of the curtain?  Your child made a draught by opening the door, and the curtain swung.’

“‘But the bed, still warm!’

“’The gardener has some cats that must have been lying there, and ran away when the door was opened, and that’s all about it!’

“‘And yet—­’

“‘Well, have you found this ghost?’

“‘No.’

“‘Well then?’ And she shook her dice rather roughly without paying any more attention to my mother, who after exchanging a curt good-night with the Marquise, returned to the tower, so little convinced of the presence of the cats that she took two screw-rings from one of our boxes, fixed them on to the trap-door, closed them with a padlock, took the key and said, ‘Now we will see if any one comes in that way.’  And for greater security she decided to lift the drawbridge after supper.  We all three took hold of the rope that moved with difficulty on the rusty pulley.  It was hard; we made three attempts.  At last it moved, the bridge shook, lifted, came right up.  It was done!  And that evening, beside my bed, my mother said: