Theophrastus found the strength to say faintly, "You know quite well that it's not loaded." They listened again; the purring had ceased; Marceline began to hope they had been mistaken. Then Theophrastus groaned, got out of bed, took the revolver, and quietly opened the door leading into his study. It was bright in a sheet of moonlight; and what Theophrastus saw made him recoil with a dull cry, shut the door, and set his back against it as if to bar what he saw from entering the bedroom. "What is it?" said Marceline hoarsely. The teeth of Theophrastus chattered as he said, "It has stopped purring; but it has moved!" "Where is it?" "On the tea-table." "The violet cat is on the tea-table?" "Yes." "Are you quite sure it was in its place last night?" "Quite sure. I stuck my scarf-pin in its head. It was on the bureau, as it always is." "You must have imagined it. Suppose I lit the light?" said Marceline. "No, no, we might escape in the darkness ... Suppose I went and opened the door on to the landing, and called the porter?" "Don't get so terrified," said Marceline, who was little by little recovering her wits, since she no longer heard the violet cat. "The whole thing was an illusion. You changed its place last night; and it didn't purr." "After all, it's quite possible," said Theophrastus, whose one desire was to get back into bed. "Go and put it back in its place," said Marceline. Theophrastus braced himself to the effort, went into the study, and with a swift and trembling hand took the cat from the tea-table, set it back on the bureau, and hurried back into bed. The violet cat was no sooner back on the bureau than he began again his _pur-r-r-r-r-r-r-r_. That purring only made them smile: they knew what had set it going. A quarter of an hour had passed; they were almost asleep, when a second fright made them spring up in bed. A third purring struck on their ears. If the first purring had smitten them with terror, and the second made them smile, the third purring frightened them out of their lives. "It's impossible!" said Marceline in a chattering whisper. "We're victims of an hallucination! B-B-B-Besides, it's n-n-not really surprising after what happened to you at the Conciergerie!" The purring once more ceased. This time it was Marceline who rose. She opened the door of the study, turned sharply towards Theophrastus, and said, but in what a faint and dying voice: "You didn't put the violet cat back on the bureau!" "But I did!" groaned Theophrastus. "_But it's gone back to the tea-table!_" "Good God!" cried poor Theophrastus; and he buried his head under the bed-clothes.