CHAPTER XIII.
The Shadow Again "Qui ne craint pas la mort craint donc la vie." As I sat in my study, the sounds of the house gradually ceased, and the quiet of night settled down between its ancient walls.

It seemed to me at times that the Vicomte was moving in his own room.

I knew, however, that the passage between us was locked on both sides.

My old patron had said nothing to me on the subject, but I had found the door bolted and the key removed.

I never was the man to intrude upon another's privacy, and respected the Vicomte's somewhat incomprehensible humour at this time.
I scarcely knew at what hour I at last went to bed; but the oil in my lamp was nearly exhausted and the candles had burnt low.