Luc considered; his curiosity was certainly roused and a sense of distrust also. The barn was so lonely, the two strangers so peculiar in appearance--and he recalled how the Italian had called after him, “Are you going to Avignon to-night?” as if he wished to be sure that he would be out of their way. “What can it be?” he murmured to himself, and he thought of coining. The light from the barn was increasing in intensity as he watched it, and presently began to take on an artificial red tinge that lit up windows and door with a lurid glow. “I think they practise fireworks,” smiled Luc. He put on his hat, took up his sword, and quietly stepped out into the dreary farm-yard, followed by his servant. The first objects that he beheld were three horses fastened to the stump of an elder tree: two, those ridden by the travellers he had met yesterday; the third, a black horse of great beauty. Keeping in the shadows of the house, and avoiding the long trails of flickering light, Luc and the servant gained the barn and crouched against the wall of it, endeavouring to find some aperture. Voices raised loudly and angrily came from within, among them the tones of the Italian speaking in his own language with great vehemence. At length Luc found a considerable hole in the loose and rotting beams that composed the walls of the barn and, looking through, saw an extraordinary scene. In the centre of the building stood an iron brazier, which held a large fire of vivid leaping flame; round this was drawn a chalk circle marked with various figures and symbols, and beyond that a ring of dead frogs and snakes. Behind the brazier stood the Italian attired in a sweeping black robe and a scarlet skullcap; he held in one hand a long white wand and in the other a closed parchment-covered book. Beside him stood the priest regarding him with an expression of impatience and vexation. The exceeding brightness of the flames threw over the features of both a glow of red, and gave even their dark garments something of the colour of blood. A third man was facing these two. He was standing quite close to Luc; he had his hands behind his back, and wore a long tabinet riding-cloak; his slight figure, scarcely of the medium height, was of a remarkable grace; his hair was clubbed and unpowdered. Luc could only see his profile, which was sensitive, attractive, and high bred. This last man was manifestly a noble, which caused Luc some surprise. He was gazing at him with curiosity when the priest suddenly moved and disclosed a fourth occupant of the barn. Luc gave a long shudder of horror and moved back from the hole. It was the dead body of the heretic peasant woman, sitting upright in a rude chair with the rope still round her swollen throat and the harsh flare over her disfigured face, dropping jaw, and staring eyes. “What is it, Monseigneur?” asked the servant eagerly.