She knew that that adventurous uncle, that American uncle, who had disappeared for so many years, had never thought until now of sending more than a strange good-day by a passing sailor. “Yes! And he says that he has property there, which requires attention, large prairies, herds of horses; that he has no children, that if I wish to go and live near him with a gentle Basque girl married to me here, he would be glad to adopt both of us.--Oh! I think mother will come also.--So, if you wish.--We could marry now.--You know they marry people as young as we, it is allowed.--Now that I am to be adopted by my uncle and I shall have a real situation in life, your mother will consent, I think.--And as for military service, we shall not care for that, shall we?--” They sat on the mossy rocks, their heads somewhat dizzy, troubled by the approach and the unforeseen temptation of happiness. So, it would not be in an uncertain future, after his term as a soldier, it would be almost at once; in two months, in one month, perhaps, that communion of their minds and of their flesh, so ardently desired and now so forbidden, might be accomplished without sin, honestly in the eyes of all, permitted and blessed.--Oh! they had never looked at this so closely.--And they pressed against each other their foreheads, made heavy by too many thoughts, fatigued suddenly by a sort of too delicious delirium.--Around them, the odor of the flowers of June ascended from the earth, filling the night with an immense suavity. And, as if there were not enough scattered fragrance, the jessamine, the honeysuckle on the walls exhaled from moment to moment, in intermittent puffs, the excess of their perfume; one would have thought that hands swung in silence censers in the darkness, for some hidden festival, for some enchantment magnificent and secret. There are often and everywhere very mysterious enchantments like this, emanating from nature itself, commanded by one knows not what sovereign will with unfathomable designs, to deceive us all, on the road to death-- “You do not reply, Gracieuse, you say nothing to me--” He could see that she was intoxicated also, like him, and yet he divined by her manner of remaining mute so long, that shadows were amassing over his charming and beautiful dream. “But,” she asked at last, “your naturalization papers. You have received them, have you not?” “Yes, they arrived last week, you know very well, and it was you who said that I should apply for them--” “Then you are a Frenchman to-day.--Then, if you do not do your military service you are a deserter.” “Yes.--A deserter, no; but refractory, I think it is called.--It isn't better, since one cannot come back.--I was not thinking of that--”