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- Гастон Леру
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Q
.
"
Was
there
no
one
in
the
churchyard
?
"
R
.
"
I
did
not
see
any
one
;
and
,
if
there
had
been
,
I
must
have
seen
him
.
The
moon
was
shining
on
the
snow
and
made
the
night
quite
light
.
"
Q
.
"
Was
it
possible
for
any
one
to
hide
behind
the
tombstones
?
"
R
.
"
No
,
monsieur
.
They
were
quite
small
,
poor
tombstones
,
partly
hidden
under
the
snow
,
with
their
crosses
just
above
the
level
of
the
ground
.
The
only
shadows
were
those
of
the
crosses
and
ourselves
.
The
church
stood
out
quite
brightly
.
I
never
saw
so
clear
a
night
.
It
was
very
fine
and
very
cold
and
one
could
see
everything
.
"
Q
.
"
Are
you
at
all
superstitious
?
"
R
.
"
No
,
monsieur
,
I
am
a
practising
Catholic
,
"
Q
.
"
In
what
condition
of
mind
were
you
?
"
R
.
"
Very
healthy
and
peaceful
,
I
assure
you
.
Mlle
.
Daae
’
s
curious
action
in
going
out
at
that
hour
had
worried
me
at
first
;
but
,
as
soon
as
I
saw
her
go
to
the
churchyard
,
I
thought
that
she
meant
to
fulfil
some
pious
duty
on
her
father
’
s
grave
and
I
considered
this
so
natural
that
I
recovered
all
my
calmness
.
I
was
only
surprised
that
she
had
not
heard
me
walking
behind
her
,
for
my
footsteps
were
quite
audible
on
the
hard
snow
.
But
she
must
have
been
taken
up
with
her
intentions
and
I
resolved
not
to
disturb
her
.
She
knelt
down
by
her
father
’
s
grave
,
made
the
sign
of
the
cross
and
began
to
pray
.
At
that
moment
,
it
struck
midnight
.
At
the
last
stroke
,
I
saw
Mlle
.
Daae
life
{
sic
}
her
eyes
to
the
sky
and
stretch
out
her
arms
as
though
in
ecstasy
.
I
was
wondering
what
the
reason
could
be
,
when
I
myself
raised
my
head
and
everything
within
me
seemed
drawn
toward
the
invisible
,
WHICH
WAS
PLAYING
THE
MOST
PERFECT
MUSIC
!
Christine
and
I
knew
that
music
;
we
had
heard
it
as
children
.
But
it
had
never
been
executed
with
such
divine
art
,
even
by
M
.
Daae
.
I
remembered
all
that
Christine
had
told
me
of
the
Angel
of
Music
.
The
air
was
The
Resurrection
of
Lazarus
,
which
old
M
.
Daae
used
to
play
to
us
in
his
hours
of
melancholy
and
of
faith
.
If
Christine
’
s
Angel
had
existed
,
he
could
not
have
played
better
,
that
night
,
on
the
late
musician
’
s
violin
.
When
the
music
stopped
,
I
seemed
to
hear
a
noise
from
the
skulls
in
the
heap
of
bones
;
it
was
as
though
they
were
chuckling
and
I
could
not
help
shuddering
.
"
