“Never, whatever may happen, shall I doubt you, Marius,” she uttered. He took her hands, and, pressing them passionately within his, “And I,” he exclaimed, “I swear, that, sustained by the thought of you, there is no disgust that I will not overcome, no obstacle that I will not overthrow.” He spoke so loud, that two or three persons stopped. He noticed it, and was brought suddenly from sentiment to the reality, “Wretches that we are,” he said in a low voice, and very fast, “we forget what this interview may cost us!” And he led Mlle. Gilberte across the Boulevard; and, whilst making their way to the Rue St. Gilles, through the deserted streets, “It is a dreadful imprudence we have just committed,” resumed M. de Tregars. “But it was indispensable that we should see each other; and we had not the choice of means. Now, and for a long time, we shall be separated. Every thing you wish me to know,--say it to that worthy Gismondo, who repeats faithfully to me every word you utter. Through him, also, you shall hear from me. Twice a week, on Tuesdays and Fridays, about nightfall, I shall pass by your house; and, if I am lucky enough to have a glimpse of you, I shall return home fired with fresh energy. Should any thing extraordinary happen, beckon to me, and I’ll wait for you in the Rue des Minimes. But this is an expedient to which we must only resort in the last extremity. I should never forgive myself, were I to compromise your fair name.” They had reached the Rue St. Gilles. Marius stopped. “We must part,” he began. But then only Mlle. Gilberte remembered M. de Tregars’ letter, which she had in her pocket. Taking it out, and handing it to him, “Here,” she said, “is the package you deposited with me.” “No,” he answered, repelling her gently, “keep that letter: it must never be opened now, except by the Marquise de Tregars.” And raising her hand to his lips, and in a deeply agitated voice, “Farewell!” he murmured. “Have courage, and have hope.” XXI Mlle. Gilberte was soon far away; and Marius de Tregars remained motionless at the corner of the street, following her with his eyes through the darkness. She was walking fast, staggering over the rough pavement. Leaving Marius, she fell back upon the earth from the height of her dreams. The deceiving illusion had vanished, and, returned to the world of sad reality, she was seized with anxiety. How long had she been out? She knew not, and found it impossible to reckon. But it was evidently getting late; for some of the shops were already closing. Meantime, she had reached the house. Stepping back, and looking up, she saw that there was light in the parlor. “Mother has returned,” she thought, trembling with apprehension. She hurried up, nevertheless; and, just as she reached the landing, Mme. Favoral opened the door, preparing to go down.