She was moved even more than he, at her discovery of this great secret.--The idea had not even come to her that it was not Gracieuse, that it might be another girl. She was too far-seeing. And her scruples as a Christian were awakened, her conscience was frightened at the evil that they might have done, as rose from the depth of her heart a sentiment of which she was ashamed as if it were a crime, a sort of savage joy.--For, in fine--if their carnal union was accomplished, the future of her son was assured.--She knew her Ramuntcho well enough to know that he would not change his mind and that Gracieuse would never be abandoned by him. The silence between them was prolonged, she standing before him, barring the way: “And what have you done together?” she decided to ask. “Tell me the truth, Ramuntcho, what wrong have you done?--” “What wrong?--Oh! nothing, mother, nothing wrong, I swear to you--” He replied this without irritation at being questioned, and bearing the look of his mother with eyes of frankness. It was true, and she believed him. But, as she stayed in front of him, her hand on the door-latch, he said, with dumb violence: “You are not going to prevent me from going to her, since I shall leave in three days!” Then, in presence of this young will in revolt, the mother, enclosing in herself the tumult of her contradictory thoughts, lowered her head and, without a word, stood aside to let him pass. CHAPTER XXV. It was their last evening, for, the day before yesterday, at the Mayor's office of Saint-Jean-de-Luz, he had, with a hand trembling a little, signed his engagement for three years in the Second naval infantry, whose garrison was a military port of the North. It was their last evening,--and they had said that they would make it longer than usual,--it would last till midnight, Gracieuse had decided: midnight, which in the villages is an unseasonable and black hour, an hour after which, she did not know why, all seemed to the little betrothed graver and guiltier. In spite of the ardent desire of their senses, the idea had not come to one nor to the other that, during this last meeting, under the oppression of parting, something more might be attempted. On the contrary, at the instant so full of concentration of their farewell, they felt more chaste still, so eternal was their love. Less prudent, however, since they had not to care for the morrow, they dared to talk there, on their lovers' bench, as they had never done before. They talked of the future, of a future which was for them very distant, because, at their age, three years seem infinite. In three years, at his return, she would be twenty; then, if her mother persisted to refuse in an absolute manner, at the end of a year she would use her right of majority, it was between them an agreed and a sworn thing.