“Now one December night， whilst she was in her littlechamber， she was awakened by the sound of bells， and nothingdoubting that they were ringing for the first Mass， the piouswoman dressed herself， and came downstairs and out intothe street. The night was so obscure that not even the wallsof the houses were visible， and not a ray of light shone fromthe murky sky. And such was the silence amid this blackdarkness， that there was not even the sound of a distant dogbarking， and a feeling of aloofness from every living creaturewas perceptible. But Catherine Fontaine knew well everysingle stone she stepped on， and， as she could have found herway to the church with her eyes shut， she reached withoutdifficulty the corner of the Rue aux Nonnes and the Rue dela Paroisse， where the timbered house stands with the tree ofJesse carved on one of its massive beams. When she reachedthis spot she perceived that the church doors were open， andthat a great light was streaming out from the wax tapers. Sheresumed her journey， and when she had passed through theporch she found herself in the midst of a vast congregationwhich entirely filled the church. But she did not recognize anyof the worshipers and was surprised to observe that all of thesepeople were dressed in velvets and brocades， with feathers intheir hats， and that they wore swords in the fashion of daysgone by. Here were gentlemen who carried tall canes with goldknobs， and ladies with lace caps fastened with coronet-shapedcombs. Chevaliers of the Order of St. Louis extended theirhands to these ladies， who concealed behind their fans paintedfaces， of which only the powdered brow and the patch at thecorner of the eye were visible！ All of them proceeded to taketheir places without the slightest sound， and as they movedneither the sound of their footsteps on the pavement， nor therustle of their garments could be heard. The lower placeswere filled with a crowd of young artisans in brown jackets，dimity breeches， and blue stockings， with their arms round thewaists of pretty blushing girls who lowered their eyes. Nearthe holy water stoups peasant women， in scarlet petticoats andlaced bodices， sat upon the ground as immovable as domesticanimals， whilst young lads， standing up behind them， staredout from wide-open eyes and twirled their hats round andround on their fingers， and all these sorrowful countenancesseemed centred irremovably on one and the same thought， atonce sweet and sorrowful. On her knees， in her accustomedplace， Catherine Fontaine saw the priest advance toward thealtar， preceded by two servers. She recognized neither priestnor clerks. The Mass began. It was a silent Mass， during whichneither the sound of the moving lips nor the tinkle of the bellwas audible. Catherine Fontaine felt that she was under theobservation and the influence also of her mysterious neighbor，and when， scarcely turning her head， she stole a glance at him，she recognized the young Chevalier d’Aumont-Cléry， whohad once loved her， and who had been dead for five and fortyyears. She recognized him by a small mark which he had overthe left ear， and above all by the shadow which his long blackeyelashes cast upon his cheeks. He was dressed in his huntingclothes， scarlet with gold lace， the very clothes he wore thatday when he met her in St. Leonard’s Wood， begged of her adrink， and stole a kiss. He had preserved his youth and goodlooks. When he smiled， he still displayed magnificent teeth.
Catherine said to him in an undertone：
“‘Monseigneur， you who were my friend， and to whom indays gone by I gave all that a girl holds most dear， may Godkeep you in His grace！ O， that He would at length inspire mewith regret for the sin I committed in yielding to you； for itis a fact that， though my hair is white and I approach my end，I have not yet repented of having loved you. But， dear deadfriend and noble seigneur， tell me， who are these folk， habitedafter the antique fashion， who are here assisting at this silentMass？’
“The Chevalier d’Aumont-Cléry replied in a voice feeblerthan a breath， but none the less crystal clear：
“‘Catherine， these men and women are souls from purgatorywho have grieved God by sinning as we ourselves sinnedthrough love of the creature， but who are not on that accountcast off by God， inasmuch as their sin， like ours， was notdeliberate.
“‘Whilst separated from those whom they loved upon earth，they are purified in the cleansing fires of purgatory， they sufferthe pangs of absence， which is for them the most cruel oftortures. They are so unhappy that an angel from heaven takespity upon their love-torment. By the permission of the MostHigh， for one hour in the night， he reunites each year lover toloved in their parish church， where they are permitted to assistat the Mass of Shadows， hand clasped in hand. These are thefacts. If it has been granted to me to see thee before thy death，Catherine， it is a boon which is bestowed by God’s specialpermission.’
“And Catherine Fontaine answered him：
“‘I would die gladly enough， dear， dead lord， if I mightrecover the beauty that was mine when I gave you to drink inthe forest.’
“Whilst they thus conversed under their breath， a veryold canon was taking the collection and proffering to theworshipers a great copper dish， wherein they let fall， eachin his turn， ancient coins which have long since ceased topass current： écus of six livres， florins， ducats and ducatoons，jacobuses and rose-nobles， and the pieces fell silently into thedish. When at length it was placed before the Chevalier， hedropped into it a louis which made no more sound than had theother pieces of gold and silver.
“Then the old canon stopped before Catherine Fontaine， whofumbled in her pocket without being able to find a farthing.
Then， being unwilling to allow the dish to pass without anoffering from herself， she slipped from her finger the ringwhich the Chevalier had given her the day before his death，and cast it into the copper bowl. As the golden ring fell， asound like the heavy clang of a bell rang out， and on the strokeof this reverberation the Chevalier， the canon， the celebrant，the servers， the ladies and their cavaliers， the whole assemblyvanished utterly； the candles guttered out， and CatherineFontaine was left alone in the darkness.”
Having concluded his narrative after this fashion， thesacristan drank a long draught of wine， remained pensive for amoment， and then resumed his talk in these words：
“I have told you this tale， exactly as my father has told itto me over and over again， and I believe that it is authentic，because it agrees in all respects with what I have observed ofthe manners and customs peculiar to those who have passedaway. I have associated a good deal with the dead， ever sincemy childhood， and I know that they are accustomed to returnto what they have loved.
“It is on this account that the miserly dead wander at nightin the neighborhood of the treasures they conceal duringtheir life time. They keep a strict watch over their gold； butthe trouble they give themselves， far from being of service tothem， turns to their disadvantage； and it is not a rare thing atall to come upon money buried in the ground on digging in aplace haunted by a ghost. In the same way deceased husbandscome by night to harass their wives who have made a secondmatrimonial venture， and I could easily name several who havekept a better watch over their wives since death than they everdid while living.
“That sort of thing is blameworthy， for in all fairness thedead have no business to stir up jealousies. Still I do but tellyou what I have observed myself. It is a matter to take intoaccount if one marries a widow. Besides， the tale I have toldyou is vouchsafed for in the manner following：
“The morning after that extraordinary night CatherineFontaine was discovered dead in her chamber. And the beadleattached to St. Eulalie found in the copper bowl used for thecollection a gold ring with two clasped hands. Besides， I’mnot the kind of man to make jokes. Suppose we order anotherbottle of wine？...”
