What that reason is, has to be found out; for, even if they are not accomplices, it may be of importance.

Everything that took place on such a night is important." We had crossed an old bridge thrown over the Douve and were entering the part of the park called the Oak Grove, The oaks here were centuries old.

Autumn had already shrivelled their tawny leaves, and their high branches, black and contorted, looked like horrid heads of hair, mingled with quaint reptiles such as the ancient sculptors have made on the head of Medusa.

This place, which Mademoiselle found cheerful and in which she lived in the summer season, appeared to us as sad and funereal now.
The soil was black and muddy from the recent rains and the rotting of the fallen leaves; the trunks of the trees were black and the sky above us was now, as if in mourning, charged with great, heavy clouds.
And it was in this sombre and desolate retreat that we saw the white walls of the pavilion as we approached.

A queer-looking building without a window visible on the side by which we neared it.