She took off her cap and brushed it with her glove, to remove the drops of rain which had fallen upon it. After a slight pause, she suddenly raised her uncovered head and cast on Camors one of those searching looks which prepares a man for an important question. “Cousin!” she said, “if you were sure that one of these flashes of lightning would kill you in a quarter of an hour, what would you do?” “Why, cousin, naturally I should take a last farewell of you.” “How?” He regarded her steadily, in his turn. “Do you know,” he said, “there are moments when I am tempted to think you a devil?” “Truly! Well, there are times when I am tempted to think so myself--for example, at this moment. Do you know what I should wish? I wish I could control the lightning, and in two seconds you would cease to exist.” “For what reason?” “Because I recollect there was a man to whom I offered myself, and who refused me, and that this man still lives. And this displeases me a little--a great deal--passionately.” “Are you serious, Madame?” replied Camors. She laughed. “I hope you did not think so. I am not so wicked. It was a joke--and in bad taste, I admit. But seriously now, cousin, what is your opinion of me? What kind of woman has time made me?” “I swear to you I am entirely ignorant.” “Admitting I had become, as you did me the honor to suppose, a diabolical person, do you think you had nothing to do with it? Tell me! Do you not believe that there is in the life of a woman a decisive hour, when the evil seed which is cast upon her soul may produce a terrible harvest? Do you not believe this? Answer me! And should I not be excusable if I entertained toward you the sentiment of an exterminating angel; and have I not some merit in being what I am--a good woman, who loves you well--with a little rancor, but not much--and who wishes you all sorts of prosperity in this world and the next? Do not answer me: it might embarrass you, and it would be useless.” She left her shelter, and turned her face toward the lowering sky to see whether the storm was over. “It has stopped raining,” she said, “let us go.” She then perceived that the lower part of the nave had been transformed into a lake of mud and water. She stopped at its brink, and uttered a little cry: “What shall I do?” she said, looking at her light shoes. Then, turning toward Camors, she added, laughing: “Monsieur, will you get me a boat?” Camors, himself, recoiled from stepping into the greasy mud and stagnant water which filled the whole space of the nave. “If you will wait a little,” he said, “I shall find you some boots or sabots, no matter what.” “It will be much easier,” she said abruptly, “for you to carry me to the door;” and without waiting for the young man’s reply, she tucked up her skirts carefully, and when she had finished, she said, “Carry me!” He looked at her with astonishment, and thought for a moment she was jesting; but soon saw she was perfectly serious.