The old clock began to strike nine; and as Hullin was recommencing his work, the door opened and Catherine Lefèvre, the mistress of Bois-de-Chênes, appeared on the threshold, to the great stupefaction of the shoemaker, for it was not her custom to arrive at such a time. Catherine Lefèvre might have been sixty years old, but she was as upright and strong as at thirty. Her clear gray eyes and beaked nose resembled those of a bird of prey; the corners of her mouth turned down, and made her look somewhat gloomy and sad; two or three locks of gray hair fell over her forehead; a brown striped hood reached from her head, over her shoulders and down to her elbows. Her physiognomy announced a steadfast, tenacious character, with something indescribably grand and mournful about it, which inspired both respect and fear. "Can it be you, Catherine?" said Hullin, in astonishment. "Yes, it is I," replied the old dame, calmly. "I am come to talk with you, Jean-Claude.... Louise is away?" "She has gone for a little amusement to Madeleine Rochart's." "It is well." Then Catherine pushed back her hood from her head, and sat down at the end of the bench. Hullin looked fixedly at her: he perceived something extraordinary and mysterious about her which fascinated him. "What has happened, then?" said he, putting down his hammer. Instead of answering this question, she turned toward the door, and seemed to be listening; then hearing no sound, her serious expression came back. "Yégof the madman spent last night at the farm," said she. "He came to see me this afternoon," rejoined Hullin, without attaching any importance to this fact, which was totally indifferent to him. "Yes," replied the old dame, in a low voice, "he spent the night with us; and yesterday evening, about this time, in the kitchen, before us all, this madman related terrible things!" Then she relapsed into silence, and the corners of her mouth seemed to turn down more than ever. "Terrible things!" murmured the shoemaker, excessively astonished: for he had never seen Catherine Lefèvre in such a condition before. "But what then? say, what?" "Dreams I have had!" "Dreams? You certainly want to make fun of me!" "No!"