A shadowy form, which Pierre at first took for an
old woman, entered. It was a priest, however, the curate of the parish,
who now occupied the house. He was acquainted with the doctor.
"I heard your voice, Monsieur Chassaigne, and came down," said he. "So
there you are, showing the room again?"
"Just so, Monsieur l' Abbe; I took the liberty. It does not inconvenience
you?"
"Oh! not at all, not at all! Come as often as you please, and bring other
people."
He laughed in an engaging manner, and bowed to Pierre, who, astonished by
this quiet carelessness, observed: "The people who come, however, must
sometimes plague you?"
The curate in his turn seemed surprised. "Indeed, no! Nobody comes. You
see the place is scarcely known. Every one remains over there at the
Grotto. I leave the door open so as not to be worried. But days and days
often pass without my hearing even the sound of a mouse."
Pierre's eyes were becoming more and more accustomed to the obscurity;
and among the vague, perplexing objects which filled the corners, he
ended by distinguishing some old barrels, remnants of fowl cages, and
broken tools, a lot of rubbish such as is swept away and thrown to the
bottom of cellars.
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