"'Oui, Madame, merci; ils se portent bien.' "These curt answers were so unlike those she generally gave me, that I was sure her mind was pre-occupied, and that something had happened since we parted in the morning; so I turned round to look her in the face, saying '_Mais, qu'avez vous donc, Francoise? Qu'est ce qu'il y a?_' "Then I saw what I had not observed before, that she was very pale, and that her cheeks had a glazed look, which showed that she had been crying. "'Mais, ma bonne Francoise,' I said; 'vous avez quelque chose--est il arrive quelque malheur a Metz?' "'C'est cela, Madame,' answered Francoise, who had a brother there whom she had not seen for several years, but to whom she still continued affectionately attached. His name was Benoit, and he was in a good service as garde forestier to a nobleman who possessed very extensive estates, _pres de chez nous_, as Francoise said. He had a wife and children; and some time before the period I am referring to, Francoise had told me, with great satisfaction, that in order to make him more comfortable, the Prince de M---- had given Benoit the privilege of gathering up all the dead wood in the forest to sell for firewood, which, as the estate was very large, rendered his situation extremely profitable. When she said 'c'est cela, Madame,' Francoise, who had just encased me in my dressing gown, sunk into a chair, and having declared that she was _bete, tres bete_, she gave way to a hearty good cry, after which, being somewhat relieved, she told me the following strange story:-- "'You remember,' she said, 'that the prince was so good as to give Benoit all the dead wood of the forest--and a great thing it was for him and his family, as you will think, when I tell you it was worth upwards of two thousand francs a-year to him. In short, he was growing rich, and perhaps he was getting to think too much of his money and too little of the _bon Dieu_--at all events, this privilege which the prince gave him to make him comfortable, and which made him a great man amongst the foresters, has been the cause of a dreadful calamity.' "'How?' said I. "'We never heard anything of what had happened,' said she, till yesterday, when Mons. Pelletier received a letter from Benoit's wife, and another from a cousin of ours, relating what I am going to tell you, and saying that both he and his family had wished to keep it secret; but that was no longer possible.' "'Well, and what has happened?'