The baroness, on seeing us enter, took several steps towards me, uttering an exclamation which she did not finish, for she stopped suddenly, as if struck with an after-thought. I took her hand and kissed it; she did not withdraw it, but she said to me:
"Theodore, why did you go to the hunt? The hand that creates such sweet accords, is it made to handle arms and commit murder?"
The sound of this adorable voice penetrated to my very soul; a veil extended itself over my sight, and I do not know how it happened, that instead of going to my seat at the harpsichord, I found myself on the sofa, talking with Seraphine of my singular hunting adventure. When I had told her the conduct of her husband, which contrasted strongly with his accustomed stiffness, she interrupted me, saying in her most affectionate voice,
"Do you not see, Theodore, that you are not yet acquainted with the baron? it is only here that his character shows itself so hard. Every time he comes here, a fixed idea pursues him; it is that this castle is going to become the theatre of some terrible calamity to our family and to his peace. He is convinced that an invisible enemy exercises in this domain a power, which sooner or later will commit an immense crime. They relate strange things of the founder of this entail, and I know myself that the castle holds a family secret; it is a tradition frightfully true, that a phantom comes here often to assail the proprietor, and does not permit him to make in this enclosure but a very limited residence. Every time that I come here with my husband, I feel almost continual terror, and it is only to your art, dear Theodore, that I am indebted for a little consolation. So that I cannot manifest to you too much gratitude."
Encouraged by this exchange of confidence, I related to Seraphine my own apprehensions. But as I hid from her the most frightful details, I saw her face become mortally pale, and I understood that it was better to reveal all to her,
