“We sat down to dinner; but we were all uneasy, especially the young people.  Everything went well up to the roast, then the bell began to ring again, three times in succession, three heavy, long strokes which vibrated to the tips of our fingers and which stopped our conversation short.  We sat there looking at each other, fork in the air, still listening, and shaken by a kind of supernatural fear.

“At last my mother spoke:  ’It’s surprising that they should have waited so long to come back.  Do not go alone, Baptiste; one of these gentlemen will accompany you.’

“My Uncle Francois arose.  He was a kind of Hercules, very proud of his strength, and feared nothing in the world.  My father said to him:  ’Take a gun.  There is no telling what it might be.’

“But my uncle only took a cane and went out with the servant.

“We others remained there trembling with fear and apprehension, without eating or speaking.  My father tried to reassure us:  ‘Just wait and see,’ he said; ’it will be some beggar or some traveller lost in the snow.  After ringing once, seeing that the door was not immediately opened, he attempted again to find his way, and being unable to, he has returned to our door.’

“Our uncle seemed to stay away an hour.  At last he came back, furious, swearing:  ’Nothing at all; it’s some practical joker!  There is nothing but that damned dog howling away at about a hundred yards from the walls.  If I had taken a gun I would have killed him to make him keep quiet.’

“We sat down to dinner again, but every one was excited; we felt that all was not over, that something was going to happen, that the bell would soon ring again.

“It rang just as the Twelfth Night cake was being cut.  All the men jumped up together.  My Uncle, Francois, who had been drinking champagne, swore so furiously that he would murder it, whatever it might be, that my mother and my aunt threw themselves on him to prevent his going.  My father, although very calm and a little helpless (he limped ever since he had broken his leg when thrown by a horse), declared, in turn, that he wished to find out what was the matter and that he was going.  My brothers, aged eighteen and twenty, ran to get their guns; and as no one was paying any attention to me I snatched up a little rifle that was used in the garden and got ready to accompany the expedition.

“It started out immediately.  My father and uncle were walking ahead with Baptiste, who was carrying a lantern.  My brothers, Jacques and Paul, followed, and I trailed on behind in spite of the prayers of my mother, who stood in front of the house with her sister and my cousins.