Since he had begun to pay attention to Bijou, whom, until now, he had scarcely ever noticed, he had felt greatly disturbed. It was all in vain that he had said to himself, over and over again, that Lisette, with her large expressive eyes, her delicate complexion, her dazzlingly white teeth, and her beautiful, elegant figure, was far prettier than Mademoiselle de Courtaix. In spite of all this, Bijou's violet eyes, her curly hair, and tempting lips, haunted him. Lisette, although she had no idea that her happiness was in danger, felt a sort of uneasiness take possession of her, and a vague sadness come over her. She could not understand why Bernes should answer her question in such a harsh way. "I shall have to see _La Vivandiere_ again because, in order to refuse a seat that was offered me in a box, I was obliged to say that I had promised to go with some of my brother-officers to the theatre." "Who was it who offered you a place?" "An old lady whom you do not know--Madame de Bracieux--you are much wiser now, are you not?" "Madame de Bracieux," she said, feeling sad, without knowing exactly why she should feel so. "She is the grandmother of Mademoiselle de Courtaix." "How did you know that?" he asked, in surprise. "Why, just as everyone else knows it in Pont-sur-Loire." "In the meantime," he said, in an irritated tone, "I shall miss the meet if I don't look out." "Don't stay," said Lisette regretfully, "enjoy yourself--and I shall see you this evening?" "Yes--this evening." Just as he was entering the wood, he turned round in his saddle, and called out: "Above all, take care that they do not see you; don't go where the carriages are." And then, taking the path along which Bijou had gone, some little time before, he put his horse to a sharp gallop, in order to make up for lost time. Suddenly he stopped short, trying to distinguish something which he saw some distance ahead of him. "Well!" he said to himself, "if it isn't a horse without its rider!--some fine gentleman has got himself landed already." As he drew nearer, he saw that the horse had a lady's saddle, and he uttered a cry as he perceived Bijou lying on her back on the grass to the right of the path. One of her arms was stretched out crosswise, and the other was down at her side, her eyes were closed, and her lips parted. Bernes sprang to the ground, fastened his horse up, and then taking Denyse in his arms, tried to prop her up against a tree. When, however, the girl's head fell languidly on his shoulder, he drew her to him, and, bending over her, kissed her soft curly hair over and over again. "Bijou, dear Bijou!" he murmured, in spite of himself; "listen to me, will you? answer me--speak to me--I am so wretched seeing you like this." At the end of two or three minutes Denyse gave a very gentle sigh, and opened her eyes slowly. At the sight of Bernes her grave face lighted up with a smile. "Ah!" she murmured, "wasn't it stupid, that fall?"