“I don’t know; but I should think that we were not far from Ernest’s garden. Yes--that wall----” “True--and I think that I see a summer-house too.” “A summer-house? Oh! let us go at once.” “You will come to-morrow, won’t you, dear?--However, I shall see you every day now.” “Yes, I will see you to-morrow--I will talk with you.” “How strangely you say that! What is the matter?” “Nothing. But come--let us go away from here.” Caroline put her arm about me; mine was about her waist, and in that position we walked away from the spot that had heard our oaths. It was very dark, we had not taken ten steps when our feet tripped over something. Caroline stooped and exclaimed with a shriek of terror: “O my God! it is a woman, my dear!” “A woman!” I shuddered from head to foot; I hardly dared to lower my eyes to examine the woman who lay at our feet. “She seems to be dead!” cried Caroline. “Dead! Ah! if it were----” I fell on my knees, I raised the unfortunate creature’s head, I put aside the leaves that shut out what light there was in the sky. A low groan escaped from my breast. I was utterly overwhelmed. It was Eugénie, it was my wife, who lay inanimate before me. Caroline had heard me murmur Eugénie’s name, and she too recognized the unhappy woman; thereupon she fell on her knees beside her and abandoned herself to despair, for she guessed that it was she who had caused her death. For my part, I could neither speak nor act. I was dumb, turned to stone, before that shocking spectacle. Suddenly Caroline cried: “Ah! her heart is still beating! She is not dead!” Those words revived me. I stooped and took Eugénie in my arms, while Caroline held the branches aside. But where could I find help so late? Ernest’s garden was the nearest place. I went to the little gate; it was open and we entered. There was a light in the summer-house, the door of which also was open. It was plain that she had gone out in haste. We went inside and I laid Eugénie on the bed. Caroline looked about and brought me water and salts; then she ran to the house, to summon help. I was left alone with Eugénie; I poured water on her forehead and temples, while I tried to warm her ice-cold hands with mine. At last she moved; she opened her eyes, recognized me, and, taking my hand, put it to her mouth, murmuring: “Ah! I am happy once more! You are with me!” “Eugénie, return to life and happiness. I have forgiven you! I had made up my mind to restore a mother to her children.” “Is it possible? But no; it is better that I should die. You love another; I heard you. I was here, your voice reached my ears; I hurried out into the forest, and I saw you in her arms. That killed me. And yet I deserved this punishment.--I pray that Caroline may make you happier than I have done!--Tell me again that you forgive me, that you will love your son---” “Eugénie!--Great God! She is fainting again--and no one comes!”