“Hid among the trees, I was examining the ground, when I noticed the countess standing near one of the old towers:  she wore a simple costume of light muslin, which could be seen at a distance.  Finding every thing quiet, I went up to her; and, as soon as she saw me, she said,—­

“‘I have been waiting for you nearly an hour.’

“I explained to her the difficulties I had met with on my way there; and then I asked her,—­

“‘But where is your husband?’

“‘He is laid up with rheumatism,’ she replied.

“‘Will he not wonder at your absence?’

“’No:  he knows I am sitting up with my youngest daughter.  I left the house through the little door of the laundry.’

“And, without giving me time to reply, she asked,—­

“‘Where are my letters?’

“‘Here they are,’ I said, handing them to her.

“She took them with feverish haste, saying in an undertone,—­

“‘There ought to be twenty-four.’

“And, without thinking of the insult, she went to work counting them.

“‘They are all here,’ she said when she had finished.

“Then, drawing a little package from her bosom, she added,—­

“‘And here are yours.’

“But she did not give them to me.

“‘We’ll burn them,’ she said.

“I started with surprise.

“‘You cannot think of it,’ I cried, ’here, and at this hour.  The fire would certainly be seen.’

“’What?  Are you afraid?  However, we can go into the wood.  Come, give me some matches.’

“I felt in my pockets; but I had none.

“‘I have no matches,’ I said.

“’Oh, come!—­you who smoke all day long,—­you who, even in my presence, could never give up your cigars.’

“‘I left my match-box, yesterday, at M. de Chandore’s.’

“She stamped her foot vehemently.

“‘Since that is so, I’ll go in and get some.’

“This would have delayed us, and thus would have been an additional imprudence.  I saw that I must do what she wanted, and so I said,—­

“‘That is not necessary.  Wait!’

“All sportsmen know that there is a way to replace matches.  I employed the usual means.  I took a cartridge out of my gun, emptied it and its shot, and put in, instead a piece of paper.  Then, resting my gun on the ground, so as to prevent a loud explosion, I made the powder flash up.

“We had fire, and put the letters to the flame.

“A few minutes later, and nothing was left of them but a few blackened fragments, which I crumbled in my hands, and scattered to the winds.  Immovable, like a statue, the Countess Claudieuse had watched my operations.

“‘And that is all,’ she said, ’that remains of five years of our life, of our love, and of your vows,—­ashes.’

“I replied by a commonplace remark.  I was in a hurry to be gone.

“She felt this, and cried with great vehemence,—­