"Can it be," said Urbain, rising and running towards Blanche. The young girl made a movement of fear, then, recovering herself, she smiled, and signed to Urbain to seat himself near her. The happy bachelor placed his chair close up to that of Blanche and very gently took one of her hands, which the ingenuous child allowed him to retain. "You forgive me for loving you, then?" said he, looking at her tenderly. "Of course, I'm obliged to, since you say that it will make you die if I forbid you to." "And you, also, will love me?" "Oh, I don't know. I loved Ursule very much, however, but you--it wouldn't be the same thing, would it?" "It would be much sweeter." "Do you think so?" "I am sure of it, by what I experience at this moment." "You are very happy now, then?" "Yes, very happy; for you are no longer afraid of me, are you?" "No, I am not afraid of you, but why do you hold my hand like that?" "I should like to press it always, to hold it incessantly against my heart." "And is that yet another proof of love?" "Yes, Blanche, but if it displeases you I will not keep this dear hand." "Oh, that doesn't displease me, but yours is burning. It makes mine warm. And why are you trembling? Is it love that makes you like that?" "Yes, it burns me, it consumes me." "Oh, it must be very unpleasant to love like that." The young bachelor, to solace, no doubt, the malady which devoured him, carried Blanche's hand to his lips and covered it with kisses. The young girl allowed him to do so, although the passionate glances of her lover were beginning to produce a strange feeling of uneasiness in her heart. Her breast rose more frequently, she sighed, and said in a faint voice,-- "Urbain--Ursule; mon Dieu, I don't know what's the matter with me, but I am afraid I've caught your malady. Wait! see how I am trembling now! Oh, my talisman, my talisman!" Poor Blanche, what will you do? While promising to himself to respect the virtue of the young girl, Urbain yielded to the ardor which inflamed him, and pressed Blanche tightly in his arms, begging her not to tremble; Blanche, astonished, did not repulse him, for excessive innocence has also its dangers, but at this moment somebody knocked violently at the door of the room and the barber's stern voice uttered these words,-- "Open the door, Blanche! I command you to open the door!" The young bachelor seemed petrified, and Blanche remained motionless in Urbain's arms, which still enfolded her. THE BARBER OF PARIS VOLUME II CHAPTER I WHO COULD HAVE EXPECTED IT The slap in the face which had been so vigorously applied to the impertinent Chevalier Chaudoreille by Urbain in his character of a good-looking young woman, though richly deserved, had been so unexpected, had so thoroughly stunned the poor little specimen of humanity that he had remained for some moments supported by the stone post against which he had been flung by the force of the blow, entirely unconscious as to his whereabouts.