"Why, yes, I do. Ange, I ’m a cross animal, but I can’t see you throw your life away and not say a word. I ’m a useless cripple enough, but I have the use of my tongue. Will you promise?" "Well—yes." "That’s right. Now for goodness let’s talk about something else. If there ’s going to be trouble it will come, and we need n’t go over and over it all before it does come. Aline, do, for the love of heaven, remember that I cannot bear the light in my eyes like that. Put the lamp over here, behind me, and then you can take a book and read aloud so as to give us all a chance of composing our minds." Aline waked late that night. All the surface calm in her had been broken up by the events of the last few days. The slight sprinkling of snow had ceased, but there was a high wind abroad, and as it complained amongst the stripped and creaking woods, it seemed to voice the yearning that strained the very fibres of her being. She stood at midnight and looked out. Very high and pale rode the moon, and the driving cloud wrack swept like shallow, eddying water across the one clear space of sky in which she queened it. All below was dense, dull, cloud mass, darkening to the hill slope, and the black sighing woodland. Thoughts drove in her brain, like the driving cloud. Sadness of life, imminence of death, shortness of love. She had seen an ugly side of ancestral pride in these two days, and suddenly she glimpsed a vision of herself grown old and grey, looking back along the interminable years to the time when she had sacrificed youth and love. Then it would be too late. Life was irrevocable; but now—now? She threw open her window and leaned far out, drawing the strong air into her lungs, whilst the wind caught her hair and spread it all abroad. The spirit of life, of youth, cried to her, and she stretched her arms wide and mingled her voice with its voice. "Jacques!" she called under her breath, "Jacques!" and then as suddenly she drew back trembling and hid her face in her cold hands. She did not know how the time passed after that, but when she looked up again there was a faint glow in the sky. She watched it curiously, thinking for a moment that it was the dawn, and then aware that morning must still be far away. A tinge of rose brightened the cloud bank over the hill, and at its edge the ether showed blue. Then quite suddenly a tongue of fire flared above the trees and sank again. As the flames rose a second time Ange Desaix was in the room. "Aline! The château! It is on fire!" she cried. "Oh, mon Dieu, what shall we do?" They ran out, wrapped hastily in muffling cloaks, and as they climbed the hill Ange spoke in gasps. "They must have seen it in the village before we did. All the world will be there. Oh, that poor child! God help us all!"