She pointed to the statues, and all shuddering, she said,-- “In the evening, when it grows dark, I fancy they are moving. I think I see people hiding behind the trees, like the man who wanted to kill papa.” “You ought to drive away those ugly notions, Miss Martha,” said M. Folgat. But Dr. Seignebos did not allow him to go on. “What, Martha? I did not know you were so timid. I thought, on the contrary, you were very brave. Your papa told me the night of the fire you were not afraid of any thing.” “Papa was right.” “And yet, when you were aroused by the flames, it must have been terrible.” “Oh! it was not the flames which waked me, doctor.” “Still the fire had broken out.” “I was not asleep at that time, doctor. I had been roused by the slamming of the door, which mamma had closed very noisily when she came in.” One and the same presentiment made M. Folgat tremble and the doctor. “You must be mistaken, Martha,” the doctor went on. “Your mamma had not come back at the time of the fire.” “Oh, yes, sir!” “No, you are mistaken.” The little girl drew herself up with that solemn air which children are apt to assume when their statements are doubted. She said,-- “I am quite sure of what I say, and I remember every thing perfectly. I had been put to bed at the usual hour, and, as I was very tired with playing, I had fallen asleep at once. While I was asleep, mamma had gone out; but her coming back waked me up. As soon as she came in, she bent over little sister’s bed, and looked at her for a moment so sadly, that I thought I should cry. Then she went, and sat down by the window; and from my bed, where I lay silently watching her, I saw the tears running down her cheeks, when all of a sudden a shot was fired.” M. Folgat and Dr. Seignebos looked anxiously at each other. “Then, my little one,” insisted Dr. Seignebos, “you are quite sure your mamma was in your room when the first shot was fired?” “Certainly, doctor. And mamma, when she heard it, rose up straight, and lowered her head, like one who listens. Almost immediately, the second shot was fired. Mamma raised her hands to heaven, and cried out, ‘Great God!’ And then she went out, running fast.” Never was a smile more false than that which Dr. Seignebos forced himself to retain on his lips while the little girl was telling her story. “You have dreamed all that, Martha,” he said. The governess here interposed, saying,-- “The young lady has not dreamed it, sir. I, also, heard the shots fired; and I had just opened the door of my room to hear what was going on, when I saw madame cross the landing swiftly, and rush down stairs. “Oh! I do not doubt it,” said the doctor, in the most indifferent tone he could command: “the circumstance is very trifling.” But the little girl was bent on finishing her story.