"He ought not to have written me that letter. It is too cruel. And why does he suggest that I should leave Ornequin? The war? Does he think that, because there is a chance of war, I shall not have the courage to stay here and do my duty? How little he knows me! Then he must either think me a coward or believe me capable of suspecting my poor mother! . . . Paul, dear Paul, you ought not to have left me. . . .

"_Monday, 3 August._

"Jerome and Rosalie have been kinder and more thoughtful than ever, now that the servants are gone.

Rosalie begged and prayed that I should go away, too.

"'And what about yourselves, Rosalie?' I said. 'Will you go?'

"'Oh, we're people who don't matter, we have nothing to fear! Besides, our place is here.'

"I said that so was mine; but I saw that she could not understand.

"Jerome, when I meet him, shakes his head and looks at me sadly.

"_Tuesday, 4 August._

"I have not the least doubt of what my duty is. I would rather die than turn my back on it. But how am I to fulfil that duty and get at the truth? I am full of courage; and yet I am always crying, as though I had nothing better to do. The fact is that I am always thinking of Paul. Where is he? What has become of him?

When Jerome told me this morning that war was declared, I thought that I should faint. So Paul is going to fight. He will be wounded perhaps. He may be killed. G.o.d knows if my true place is not somewhere near him, in a town close to where he is fighting!

What have I to hope for in staying here? My duty to my mother, yes, I know. Ah, mother, I beseech your forgiveness . . . but, you see, I love my husband and I am so afraid of anything happening to him! . . .

"_Thursday, 6 August._

"Still crying. I grow unhappier every day. But I feel that, even if I became still more so, I would not desist. Besides, how can I go to him when he does not want to have anything more to do with me and does not even write? Love me? Why, he loathes me! I am the daughter of a woman whom he hates above all things in the world. How unspeakably horrible! If he thinks like that of my mother and if I fail in my task, we shall never see each other again! That is the life I have before me.

"_Friday, 7 August._

"I have made Jerome and Rosalie tell me all about mother. They only knew her for a few weeks, but they remember her quite well; and what they said made me feel so happy! She was so good, it seems, and so pretty; everybody worshiped her.

"'She was not always very cheerful,' said Rosalie. 'I don't know if it was her illness already affecting her spirits, but there was something about her, when she smiled, that went to one's heart.'

"My poor, darling mother!

"_Sat.u.r.day, 8 August._

"We heard the guns this morning, a long way off. They are fighting 25 miles away.

"Some French soldiers have arrived. I had seen some of them pretty often from the terrace, marching down the Liseron Valley. But these are going to stay at the house. The captain made his apologies. So as not to inconvenience me, he and his lieutenants will sleep and have their meals in the lodge where Jerome and Rosalie used to live.

"_Sunday, 9 August._

"Still no news of Paul. I have given up trying to write to him either. I don't want him to hear from me until I have all the proofs. But what am I to do? How can I get proofs of something that happened seventeen years ago? Hunt about, think and reflect as I may, I can find nothing.

"_Monday, 10 August._

"The guns never ceased booming in the distance.

Nevertheless, the captain tells me that there is nothing to make one expect an attack by the enemy on this side.

"_Tuesday, 11 August._

"A sentry posted in the woods, near the little door leading out of the estate, has just been killed--stabbed with a knife. They think that he must have been trying to stop a man who wanted to get out of the park. But how did the man get in?

"_Wednesday, 12 August._

"What can be happening? Here is something that has made a great impression on me and seems impossible to understand. There are other things besides which are just as perplexing, though I can't say why. I am much astonished that the captain and all his soldiers whom I meet appear so indifferent and should even be able to make jokes among themselves. I feel the sort of depression that comes over one when a storm is at hand. There must be something wrong with my nerves.

"Well, this morning. . . ."

Paul stopped reading. The lower portion of the page containing the last few lines and the whole of the next page were torn out. It looked as if the major, after stealing elisabeth's diary, had, for reasons best known to himself, removed the pages in which she set forth a certain incident.

The diary continued:

"_Friday, 14 August._

"I felt I must tell the captain. I took him to the dead tree covered with ivy and asked him to lie down on the ground and listen. He did so very patiently and attentively. But he heard nothing and ended by saying:

"'You see, madame, that everything is absolutely normal.'

"'I a.s.sure you,' I answered, 'that two days ago there was a confused sound from this tree, just at this spot. And it lasted for several minutes.'

"He replied, smiling as he spoke:

"'We could easily have the tree cut down. But don't you think, madame, that in the state of nervous tension in which we all are we are liable to make mistakes; that we are subject to hallucinations? For, after all, where could the sound come from?'

"Of course, he was right. And yet I had heard and seen for myself. . . .

"_Sat.u.r.day, 15 August._

"Yesterday, two German officers were brought in and were locked up in the wash-house, at the end of the yard. This morning, there was nothing in the wash-house but their uniforms. One can understand their breaking open the door. But the captain has found out that they made their escape in French uniforms and that they pa.s.sed the sentries, saying that they had been sent to Corvigny.

"Who can have supplied them with those uniforms?

Besides, they had to know the pa.s.sword: who can have given them that?

"It appears that a peasant woman called several days in succession with eggs and milk, a woman rather too well-dressed for her station, and that she hasn't been here to-day. But there is nothing to prove her complicity.

"_Sunday, 16 August._