20 
LAND & WATER 
January 25, 1917 
(Continued from page t8) 
•' No," she said, in a firm voice. ■ VVeU walk on. I want 
to pray. It will do me good." . . . • v. 
Boldly she stepped along the little slanting path which 
her mother had followed and climbed the slope amid the 
tangled weeds and the straggling branches. They passed 
the lodge on their left and reached the leafy cloisters where 
each had a parent lying buried. And at once, at the first 
glance, they saw that the twentieth wreath was there 
• Simeon has come," said Patrice. " An aU-powerful 
nstinct obliged him to come. He must be somewhere near 
While Coralie knelt down beside the tombstone, he hunted 
iround the cloisters and went as far as the middle of the garden. 
There was nothing left but to go to the lodge ; and this was 
• vidently a dread act which they put off performing, if not 
!rom fear, at least from the reverent awe which checks a man 
• •n entering a place of death and crime. 
It was Coralie once again who gave the signal for action : 
' Come," she said. . 
Patrice did not know how they would make their way 
nto the lodge, for all its doors and windows had appeared to 
them to be shut. But, as they approached, they saw that 
the back door opening on the yard was wide open ; and they at 
once thought that Simoon was waiting for them inside^ 
It was exactly ten o'clock when they crossed the threshold 
of the lodge. A Httle hall led to a kitchen on one side and 
a bedroom on the other. The principal room must be that 
opposite. The door stood ajar. 
^' That's where it must have happened . • • long 
ago," said Coralie, in a frightened whisper. 
" Yes," said Patrice, " we shall find Simoon there. But, 
if your courage fails you, Coralie, we had better give it up. 
An unquestioning force of will supported her. Nothing 
now would have induced her to stop. She walked on. 
Though large, the room gave an impression of cosiness, 
oving to the way in which it was furnished. The sofas, 
armchairs, carpet and hangings all tended to add to Us com- 
fort ; and its appearance might well have remained un- 
changed since the tragic death of the two who used to occupy 
it This appearance was rather that of a studio, because of a 
skylight which filled the middle of the high ceiling, where the 
belvedere was. The light came from here. There were 
two other windows, but these were hidden by curtains. 
" Simf'on is not here," said Patrice. 
Coralie did not reply. She was examining the things 
around her with an emotion which was reflected m every 
feature. There were books, all of them going back to the 
last century. Some of them were signed " Coralie" in pencil 
on their blue or yellow wrappers. There were pieces of un- 
ftnished needlework, an embroidery-frame, a piece of tapestry 
with a needle hanging to it by a thread of wool. And ^here 
were also books signed " Patrice " and a box of cigars and 
a blotting-pad and an inkstand and penholders. And there 
were two small framed photographs, those of two children, 
Patrice and Coralie. And thus the life of long ago went on, 
not only the life of two lovers who loved each other wit'i a 
violent and fleeting passion, but of two beings who dwell 
together in the calm assurance of a long existence spent in 
common. „ ,. , • . 
"Oh, my darling, darling mother! ' Coralie whispered. 
Her emotion increased with each new memory. She leant 
trembling on Patrice's shoulder. 
" Let's go," he said. 
' Yes, dear, ys, we had better. We will come back again 
. We will come back to them ... We will 
revive the life of love that was cut short by their death. Let 
MS go for to-day ; I have no strength left." 
But they had only taken a few steps when they stopped 
dismayed. 
Tly* '^'wr was clos*»<l 
rturrr eves met, filled with uneasiness. 
■ vYe didn't close it, did we? " he asked. . 
No," she said, " we didn't close it." 
i le went to open it and perceived that it had neither handle 
nor lock. , , j 1. j j 
It was a single door of massive wood that looked hard and 
substantial. It might well have been made of one piece, 
taken from the very heart of an oak. There was no paint or 
varnish on it. Here and there were scratches, as if some one 
had been rapping at it with a tool. And then . . . and 
then, on the right, were these few words in pencil : 
Patrice and Coralie, 14TH April, 1895. 
Gon Will Avenge Us. 
Bel&w this was a cross and, below the cross, another date, 
but in a different and more recent handwriting : 
14TH April, 1915. 
•• This is terrible, this is terrible," said Patrice. " To- 
day's date I Who can have written that ? It has only just 
been written. Oh, it's terrible ! . . . Come, come, after 
all, we can't ..." , 1 * • 
He rushed to one of the windows, tore back the curtain 
that veiled it and pulled open the casement. A cry escaped 
him. The window was walled up, walled up with building- 
stones that filled the space between the glass and the shutters. 
He ran to the other window and found the same obstacle. 
There were two doors, leading prol)ably to the bedroorn 
on the right and to a room next to the kitchen on the left. 
He opened them quickly. Both doors were walled up. 
He ran in every direction, during the first moment of 
terror, and tlien hurled liimself against the first of the three 
doors and tried to break it down, ft did not move. It might 
have been an immovable block. 
Then, once again, they looked at each other with eyes 
of fear ; and the same terrible thought came over them both. 
The thing that had happuned before was being repeated! 
The tragedy was being played a second time. After the 
mother and the father, it was the turn of the daughter and 
the son. Like the lovers of yesteryear, thoso of to-day were 
prisoners. The enemy held them in his powerful grip , 
and they would doubtless soon know how their parents had 
died by seeing how thev themselves would die . . • 14th 
April, "1895 . . . 14th April, 1915 • • • 
N! 
CHAPTER XII 
In the Abyss 
'0, no, no!" cried Patrice. "I won't stand 
this!" He flung himself against the wmdows 
and doors took up an iron dog from the fender 
and banged it against the wooden doors, and the 
stone walls. Barren efforts ! They were the same which 
his father had made before him ; and they could only result 
in the same mockery of impotent scratches on the wood 
and the stone. . ,, 
"Oh, Coralie, Coralie!" he cried in his despair. Its 
I who have brought you to this ! What an ab\ss I've dragged 
you into ! It was madness to trv and figlit tins out by my- 
self ' I ought to have called in those who understand, who 
are accustomed to it ! . . . No, I was going to be so 
clever ! . . . Forgive me, Coralie." 
She had sunk into a chair. He, almost on his knees beside 
her, threw his arms around her, imploring her pardon. 
She smiled, to calm him : 
" Come, dear," she said, gently, " don't lose courage. 
Perhaps we are mistaken . . . After all, there's nothing 
to show that it is not all an accident." • 
" The date ! " he said. " The date of this year, of this 
day written in another hand ! It was your mother and my 
father who wrote the first ... but this one, Coralie. 
this one proves premeditation and an implacable determina- 
tion to do away with us." . . 
She sbuddered. Still she persisted in trying to comfort 
Viim ■ 
" it may be. But yet it is not so bad as all that. We have 
enemies, but we have friends also. They will look for us. 
" They will look for us, but how can they ever find us 
Coralie ? We took steps to prevent them from guessing 
where we were going to ; and not one of them knows this 
house." 
" Old Simeon does." 
" Sim'on came and placed his wreath, but some one else 
came with him, some one who rules him and who has perhaps 
already get rid of him. now that Sim-' on has played his part. 
" And what then, Patrice ? " ,. > j < 
He felt that she was overcome and began to be ashamed ot 
his own weakness. . 
•■ Well " he said, mastering himself, " we must just wait_ 
After all the attack may not materialise. The fact of 
our being locked in docs not mean that we are lost And_ 
even so, we shall make a fight for it, shall we not ? You need 
not think that I am at the end of my strength or my resources. 
Let us wait, Coralie, and act." 
The main thing was to find out whether there was anv 
entrance to the house which could allow of an unforeseen 
attack After an hour's search, they took up the carpet 
and found tiles which showed nothing unusual. There was 
certainly nothing except the door; and, as they could not 
prevent this from being opened, since it opened outwards, 
they heap"d most of th'- furniture in front of it, thus forming 
a barricade which would protect them against a surprise 
Then Patrice cocked his two revolvers and placed them 
beside him, in full sight. _ • , .. . 
" This will make us easy in our_minds, he said. Am- 
enemy who appears is a dead man." ■ , ,, 
But the memory of the pist bore down upon them wii 1; nil 
its awful weight. All their words ami all their actio'T^ 
others before them had spiken and performed, under sinnl:ir 
conditions, with the same thouglits and the s.ime forebodings. 
