She was sitting upon a bench out in the shadow, with Alcée beside her. They were acting like fools. He had attempted to take a little gold ring from her finger; just for the fun of it, for there was nothing he could have done with the ring but replace it again. But she clinched her hand tight. He pretended that it was a very difficult matter to open it. Then he kept the hand in his. They seemed to forget about it. He played with her ear-ring, a thin crescent of gold hanging from her small brown ear. He caught a wisp of the kinky hair that had escaped its fastening, and rubbed the ends of it against his shaven cheek. "You know, last year in Assumption, Calixta?" They belonged to the younger generation, so preferred to speak English. "Don't come say Assumption to me, M'sieur Alcée. I done yeard Assumption till I'm plumb sick." "Yes, I know. The idiots! Because you were in Assumption, and I happened to go to Assumption, they must have it that we went together. But it was nice--_hein_, Calixta?--in Assumption?" They saw Bobinôt emerge from the hall and stand a moment outside the lighted doorway, peering uneasily and searchingly into the darkness. He did not see them, and went slowly back. "There is Bobinôt looking for you. You are going to set poor Bobinôt crazy. You 'll marry him some day; _hein_, Calixta?" "I don't say no, me," she replied, striving to withdraw her hand, which he held more, firmly for the attempt. "But come, Calixta; you know you said you would go back to Assumption, just to spite them." "No, I neva said that, me. You mus' dreamt that." "Oh, I thought you did. You know I'm going down to the city." "W'en?" "To-night." "Betta make has'e, then; it's mos' day." "Well, to-morrow'll do." "W'at you goin' do, yonda?" "I don't know. Drown myself in the lake, maybe; unless you go down there to visit your uncle." Calixta's senses were reeling; and they well-nigh left her when she felt Alcée's lips brush her ear like the touch of a rose. "Mista Alcée! Is dat Mista Alcée?" the thick voice of a negro was asking; he stood on the ground, holding to the banister-rails near which the couple sat. "W'at do you want now?" cried Alcée impatiently. "Can't I have a moment of peace?" "I ben huntin' you high an' low, suh," answered the man. "Dey--dey some one in de road, onda de mulbare-tree, want see you a minute." "I would n't go out to the road to see the Angel Gabriel. And if you come back here with any more talk, I 'll have to break your neck." The negro turned mumbling away. Alcée and Calixta laughed softly about it. Her boisterousness was all gone. They talked low, and laughed softly, as lovers do. "Alcée! Alcée Laballière!" It was not the negro's voice this time; but one that went through Alcée's body like an electric shock, bringing him to his feet.