Livette blushed vividly. Her two young friends arrived just then and heard what was said. "Don't you do it!" said one of them in an undertone, pulling Livette's skirt from behind; but, Livette, annoyed by the gipsy's expression, in which she fancied that she could detect a touch of mockery, put out her hand, not without a mental prayer for protection to the sainted Marys. The gipsy took the proffered hand in her own. The snakes put out their forked tongues. Livette was somewhat pale. They were both very small, the fortune-teller's hand and the maiden's. Renaud looked on from above with all his eyes, greatly surprised and a little disturbed in mind. The gipsy held Livette's hand in her own a moment, exulting to feel the palpitations of the bird she was fascinating. She had hoped to intimidate Livette, and the courage the girl displayed annoyed her. "Your future husband isn't far away, my beauty," said she, "but he is not here on your account, never fear! On whose, then? That is for you to guess!" Livette, already somewhat pale, became as white as a ghost. "That alone, I fancy, is of interest to you, my pretty sweetheart! Then I'll say no more to you except this: Beware; the serpent on my left wrist just whispered something to me. Look well to your love!" A shudder ran through the spectators like a ripple over the surface of a swamp. One of the snakes was, in fact, hissing gently. The gipsy released Livette's hand; as the girl turned to go away, she came face to face with Rampal. He had been wandering about the village since early morning, and had just joined the group, unseen by any one, even by Renaud. Livette recoiled instinctively and in such a marked way that Rampal might well have taken it for an affront. Unfortunately, having left the front row, she was hemmed in by the crowd on all sides of her. "Oho! young lady," said Rampal, "so we don't recognize our friends!" "Good-day, good-day, Rampal," replied Livette, repeating the salutation as the custom is in the province; "but let me pass! Make room for me, I say!" "_Sur le pont d'Avignon_," sang the gipsy, with a laugh, "_tout le monde paye passage!_"[2] Renaud, still behind his window, had at last recognized Rampal. Fuming with rage, but naturally wary, he considered whether he should rush down at once and attack him or wait until Livette had gone. Rampal did not always need a pretext to kiss a pretty girl,--but here was one ready-made for him! "Do you hear, demoiselle?" said he. "You must pay the tollman of your own accord, or else he will pay himself!" He threw both arms about the poor child's waist. She bent back, holding her body and her head as far away from him as possible, but the rascal, hot of breath, holding her firmly and forcing her a little closer, kissed her twice full upon the lips.