"Your uncle tells me all about his theories. It's true, I don't understand them a bit. However, as regards this one, he has spoken to me of a special ray, which he presupposed to explain that discharge of invisible particles. And he calls this ray after the first letter of my name, the B-ray." "Well done, Bérangère; that makes you the god-mother of a ray, the ray of seductiveness and charm." "Not at all," she cried, impatiently. "It's not a question of seductiveness but of a material incarnation, a fluid which is even able to become visible and to assume a form, like the apparitions produced by the mediums. For instance, the other day . . ." She stopped and hesitated; her face betrayed anxiety; and I had to press her before she continued: "No, no," she said, "I oughtn't to speak of that. It's not that your uncle forbade me to. But it has left such a painful impression. . . ." "What do you mean, Bérangère?" "I mean, an impression of fear and suffering. I saw, with your uncle, on a wall in the Yard, the most frightful things: images which represented three--sort of eyes. _Were_ they eyes? I don't know. The things moved and looked at us. Oh, I shall never forget it as long as I live." "And my uncle?" "Your uncle was absolutely taken aback. I had to hold him up and bring him round, for he fainted. When he came to himself, the images had vanished." "And did he say nothing?" "He stood silent, gazing at the wall. Then I asked him, 'What is it, god-father?' Presently he answered, 'I don't know, I don't know: it may be the rays of which I spoke to you, the B-rays. If so, it must be a phenomenon of materialization.' That was all he said. Very soon after, he saw me to the door of the garden; and he has shut himself up in the Yard ever since. I did not see him again until just now." She ceased. I felt anxious and greatly puzzled by this revelation: "Then, according to you, Bérangère," I said, "my uncle's discovery is connected with those three figures? They were geometrical figures, weren't they? Triangles?" She formed a triangle with her two fore-fingers and her two thumbs: "There, the shape was like that. . . . As for their arrangement . . ." She picked up a twig that had fallen from a tree and was beginning to draw lines in the sand of the path when a whistle sounded. "That's god-father's signal when he wants me in the Yard," she cried. "No," I said, "to-day it's for me. We fixed it." "Does he want you?" "Yes, to tell me about his discovery." "Then I'll come too." "He doesn't expect you, Bérangère." "Yes, he does; yes, he does." I caught hold of her arm, but she escaped me and ran to the top of the garden, where I came up with her outside a small, massive door in a fence of thick planks which connected a shed and a very high wall. She opened the door an inch or two. I insisted: "Don't do it, Bérangère! It will only vex him." "Do you really think so?" she said, wavering a little.