When Herodias had obtained the head of John the Baptist, she lifted it by the hair from the gold charger, whereon it lay with a circle of blood around the neck, raised it to the level of her face, and after gazing upon it with deep interest, examining the closed eyelids and long lashes and the transparent pallor of the cheeks, she suddenly placed her mouth upon that lifeless mouth and sought to force her tongue between the lips to the cold teeth too tightly closed in death, esteeming that kiss, inflicted on her dead foe, more delicious than the incestuous caresses for which he had reproved her. What was left of Renaud's suspicions of Zinzara, while she was smiling in the darkness, and the warm breath from her lips was playing upon his neck? He had ceased to reflect; he rode on. He willingly postponed the longed-for hour, now that he was forced to go on. He thought no more of violence. His happiness was secure. He could wait. In the midst of the deserted plains, still warm from the sunlight though refreshed by the night air, love came without calling, but he enjoyed the anticipation more than anything he had known.--And then she might escape him even now. He must be careful not to startle her. When they reached the nest yonder, he would keep her there some time. And so he rode on, inhaling the saline air of the desert, which was his--with his stallion's four shoeless feet trampling through the sand and water, which were his also--bound for the horizon, which would soon be his. Once, however, in the midst of a swamp, where the water was above his horse's knees, he stopped again. "What is it?" said she. Renaud turned his head, and throwing himself back, called her with a smacking of his lips. "When I am ready!" said Zinzara in a mocking tone. As she spoke, Blanchet leaped forward, with all four feet in the air, and made a tremendous splashing in the water, which fell about their heads in a heavy shower. And, unseen by Renaud, the gipsy smiled against his neck, as she replaced in her hair the long gold pin she had plunged into the beast's flank. Suddenly there was a shout of _Qui vive?_ directly in front of them, so unexpected in the solitude, that Blanchet jumped again. "_Qui vive?_" the voice repeated. "The king!" Renaud replied gaily. "Ah! is it you, Renaud?" It was the revenue officers; but Renaud hurried by, at a safe distance, so that they might not recognize the gitana. They were near the salt spring of Badon. The rectangular heaps of salt seemed like so many long, low houses, with sharp roofs. In its shroud-like whiteness the spot resembled a little town, geometrically laid out, asleep under dead snow. They reached the shore of the main stream of the Rhône. Zinzara was on the ground before Renaud had stopped his horse. He alighted in his turn, and handed the rein to the gipsy. She held Blanchet while he was drinking in the river. "Now for some oats!" said Renaud.