"It is an _impasse_" he exclaimed at the door. "I am sorry this has happened; but in honour there is only one course." An hour later Louise still sat where the rest had left her. Soon after her father's departure an idea had occurred to her--an idea which evidently interested and absorbed her so fully that for a whole hour she sat motionless, thinking deeply, with set mouth and flushed face. The opening of the door startled her, and she looked up to see Henri d'Estreville entering the room, a sight which added a still deeper wave of colour to the flush of excitement which already darkened her cheek. "Mademoiselle Louise," said Henri, "I have come to bid you farewell." "Yes, farewell," murmured Louise, "I knew you would be going." "I am happy to know that Mademoiselle has devoted a thought to me; it is right that it should be so, for indeed I have many for you, Mademoiselle." "You go to the war," Louise murmured, speaking as though in a dream; "so should all brave men go; oh, Monsieur, it is grand to be a man, to take a great part in the affairs of life; to move and live and fight, while others remain at home to weep and think with folded hands. To which army corps is Monsieur attached?" "To that of Ney," said Henri, puzzled by the mood of Louise. Evidently he had surprised her in a moment of unusual softness. Henri had thought, more than once, that the attitude of Louise towards himself indicated a certain partiality. To-day he was almost certain of it. "Ah, Ney! glorious, splendid Ney, Bravest of the brave! Then I may picture you, Monsieur, as for ever in the thick of the fighting; I shall think of you, Monsieur, be sure; will you also think of me?" "Assuredly, Louise." "And how?" "As of one who, perhaps, sits and waits until a--a certain young soldier returns to repeat to her, as now from his very heart he tells her, that in absence it was her image----" "Oh, Monsieur," Louise laughed, "not so! sits and waits! Yes, perhaps; but not in spirit! In spirit, Monsieur, I, too, shall be with Ney, fighting with him and with you the battles of my country; suffering hardships, wounds, death maybe, God knows; think of me thus!" "Yes, I will think thus of you, Mademoiselle; and when I return----" "Oh, Monsieur, 'sufficient for the day is the evil'. How know you that you will return, or if you return that you will find me?" "I shall return, Louise; I have no presentiment that evil lies before me; certainly I shall return, and as for finding you, that is a matter of course." "What if you do not seek me, Monsieur? or if, when you seek me, you do not find me?" "To the first I reply that I shall desire you, Louise, as the miner longs for light and air; why should I not find you? I will ask you to wait for my return, Mademoiselle!" "Yes, I will wait for you, Monsieur, if I am alive."