charge of the key of this chest. In this hall, on the street side, was a recess where Lebrun slept when he did not pass the night with his own family. The rest of this story was taken up by a large room in which Madame Mazel received her guests when she gave an entertainment.
The sleeping-chamber of Madame Mazel was on the second story, looking out upon the court. To reach this chamber it was necessary to pass through two antechambers, one of which, opening upon the stairway, was always unlocked, the other was locked during the night.
By order of Madame Mazel there had been made in the door of her room, below the lock, a little hole, which was stopped up with a peg. When she was indisposed or did not wish to rise to open the door herself, the servants introduced through this little hole a hook with which they could push back a button which was used as a fastening instead of the lock. In this immense room Madame Mazel slept alone.
Two doors opened into this chamber,—one leading from the back stairway and the other from the bath-room, from which another door led to the back stairs. The first of these doors was near the bed, and Madame Mazel could open it without rising. Behind the bed were two bell-ropes communicating with the servants' chambers.
Except the chamber of the Abbé Poulard, the third story was entirely unoccupied. The room of the old monk was directly over the bath-room, and was reached by the back stairway.
The fourth story was occupied by the two servants and the two lackeys. The cook slept downstairs in a woodshed, and the coachman in a recess under the stairs. This last had charge of the gate, the key of which was kept hanging upon a nail in the kitchen, where all the inmates of the house had access to it.
At the top of the house was a large attic, from which a window opened upon a gutter which extended from the roof of the house to that of an adjoining building. The door of this attic was always open.
These details, though uninteresting, will be found necessary for properly understanding this recital. One fact more must be added. Some time before the moment this story commences,—that is to say, early in the winter of 1689,—Madame Mazel had asked Lebrun for the pass-key which he used for going in and out, and had given it to the Abbé Poulard, although he already had one which he used constantly.
Bearing all these facts in mind, we come now to the 27th of November, 1689.
On that day Madame Mazel supped with the Abbé Poulard as usual. During the meal the Abbé announced that he should sleep in his room in the neighborhood. Madame Mazel retired about eleven o'clock. Lebrun had remained with his family that evening later than usual; they heard him knocking at the door of the back stairs just as the servants, after having attended to their mistress, were about to retire.
"Who is that?" asked Madame Mazel.
"It is M. Lebrun," replied a servant.
"This is a pretty hour to come home," said the mistress.
Finding that no one answered him, Lebrun went round and ascended the front stairs. His mistress gave him orders for the supper the next day, when she proposed to have a reception. Lebrun then attended to his usual duties. He locked the door of the chamber before he went out, and placed the key on a seat near the bed; then, as he did every night, he locked the door of the second antechamber and left the key on the mantelpiece in the first antechamber.
Having done this, he descended to the kitchen, placed his hat upon the table, and took the key of the gate with the intention of locking it. He laid it on the table and sat down for a moment to warm himself before the fire, which still blazed upon the hearth. Insensibly he fell asleep. When he awoke a neighboring clock struck one. He went and locked the gate, which he
