“In the evening, when it grows dark, I fancy they are moving. I think
I see people hiding behind the trees, like the man who wanted to kill
papa.”
“You ought to drive away those ugly notions, Miss Martha,” said M.
Folgat.
But Dr. Seignebos did not allow him to go on.
“What, Martha? I did not know you were so timid. I thought, on the
contrary, you were very brave. Your papa told me the night of the fire
you were not afraid of any thing.”
“Papa was right.”
“And yet, when you were aroused by the flames, it must have been
terrible.”
“Oh! it was not the flames which waked me, doctor.”
“Still the fire had broken out.”
“I was not asleep at that time, doctor. I had been roused by the
slamming of the door, which mamma had closed very noisily when she came
in.”
One and the same presentiment made M. Folgat tremble and the doctor.
“You must be mistaken, Martha,” the doctor went on. “Your mamma had not
come back at the time of the fire.”
“Oh, yes, sir!”
“No, you are mistaken.”
The little girl drew herself up with that solemn air which children are
apt to assume when their statements are doubted. She said,--
“I am quite sure of what I say, and I remember every thing perfectly.
I had been put to bed at the usual hour, and, as I was very tired with
playing, I had fallen asleep at once. While I was asleep, mamma had gone
out; but her coming back waked me up. As soon as she came in, she bent
over little sister’s bed, and looked at her for a moment so sadly, that
I thought I should cry. Then she went, and sat down by the window; and
from my bed, where I lay silently watching her, I saw the tears running
down her cheeks, when all of a sudden a shot was fired.”