distance, seemed to withdraw unwillingly from the cursed abode. ‘Mercy!’ said Caderousse, crossing himself.
“At the same moment, and in the midst of the terrifying silence which usually follows a clap of thunder, they heard a knocking at the door. Caderousse and his wife started and looked aghast at each other.
“ ‘Who’s there?’ cried Caderousse, rising, and drawing up in a heap the gold and notes scattered over the table, and which he covered with his two hands.
“ ‘It is I,’ shouted a voice.
“ ‘And who are you?’
“ ‘Eh, pardieu! Joannes, the jeweller.’
“ ‘Well, and you said I offended the good God,’ said La Carconte with a horrid smile. ‘Why, the good God sends him back again.’ Caderousse sank pale and breathless into his chair.
“La Carconte, on the contrary, rose, and going with a firm step towards the door, opened it, saying, as she did so:
“ ‘Come in, dear M. Joannes.’
“ ‘Ma foi,’ said the jeweller, drenched with rain, ‘I am not destined to return to Beaucaire tonight. The shortest follies are best, my dear Caderousse. You offered me hospitality, and I accept it, and have returned to sleep beneath your friendly roof.’
“Caderousse stammered out something, while he wiped away the sweat that started to his brow. La Carconte double-locked the door behind the jeweller.”