The accent and the caress pierced to the depths the heart of the young girl, already stirred by the maternal impulse of the woman. "Really here, yes." But almost immediately, as though regretting the softness of the response, she added, in remonstrance: "I have not given you permission to call me thou!" "It is my gratitude that--that permits me." "Ah, that is nice." She smiled with pleasure. "That was very prettily said." "Nicole?" "Yes." "Place your ear to my lips; I cannot talk so far." The girl, with a smile, divining the ruse, leaned over him. But Barabant making no sound, she withdrew, scrutinizing anxiously the hot face. "Nicole." "I am here." Again she stooped, and this time so close that her hair swept his forehead. "You are there?" "Yes." "I love you," he said drowsily. "Oh, oh!" Nicole started back, blushing and amused; but looking down, she saw he had dropped again into the wanderings of delirium. "He does not know what he says," she said, shaking her head. "Poor fellow!" She watched him in his helplessness, and all at once she sighed; but it was a sigh that rose from the soul, and while it filled her heart, it passed on and awakened in her a famine of tenderness, leaving a longing for tears. * * * * * Motionless and perplexed, she stood staring down at the dim bed, her lips parted, her breast filling with deep breaths, until at last she turned reluctantly and sought the window, still uncertain, nor comprehending what was germinating within her. The night was beginning; in the clear heavens the high moon was strengthening in luster at every moment. Across the stretch of window lights the sounds of revelry and rejoicing persisted faintly to her ears. The courtyard, deserted by the men, was hushed with the silence of fatigue. The laugh of a girl mounted at times, clear and playful, mingling with the deeper, good-humored protests of her companion. From a window a hag, chin in hand, followed the lovers with due interest. In another room a weary mother had fallen asleep with her baby still feeding at her breast. At other windows the women waited patiently the return of the men, bending mechanically over their knitting or crooning to the sleepy children. There, under the enduring, tedious night, Nicole stayed from minute to minute, pressing her clenched hand tensely against her lips; while within her breast beat tumult and a revolt against the slavery of women. She returned to the bedside, rebelling against this helpless man who drew her irresistibly from her independence. "Nicole--" It was Goursac calling, and she sprang furiously to the landing, rebuking him with a low: "Silence! he is asleep. What do you want?" "If you are tired, I'll watch." "No, no!" she answered angrily. The cry seemed to burst from her heart, threatened by the very thought of such exile.