"I am leaving," Jean murmured, "and I shall never come back, M. Bastian; that is why I took the liberty of coming." He felt the rough hand of the Alsatian tremble. There was an exchange of secret and rapid dialogue between the men, while the two anxious women rose from their chairs, and with their hands leaning on the table, bent forward. "What do you say? You will come back in a year?" "No, I am going to join the regiment because I promised to. But I shall leave it." "You will leave it?" "The day after to-morrow." "Where are you going?" "To France!" "For ever?" "Yes." The old Alsatian turned aside for a moment. "Talk on, you women, talk on; we have business to discuss." They moved away, whilst he, breathless as though with running, cried: "Be careful what you do; be prudent; don't let yourself be caught." He placed both hands on Jean's shoulders. "I must stay: that's my way, you see, of loving Alsace; there is no better. I live here, and here I die. But for you, my boy, things are different, I understand--don't let the women guess; it's too serious. Does any one know at your home?" "No." "Keep your secret," and then, lowering his voice, "You wanted to see her once more. I don't blame you, since you will never meet again." Jean nodded as though to say "Yes, I had to see her once more." "Look at her a minute, and then go. Stay where you are--look over my shoulder." Over M. Bastian's shoulder Jean could see that the troubled look in Odile's eyes had grown to terror. She met his gaze fearlessly; she had no thought but for the dialogue which she could not hear, the mystery in which she felt she had some part, and her face betrayed her anguish. "What are they saying? Is it bad news again? Is it better? No; not better, they are not both looking my way." Her mother was still paler than her daughter. "Farewell, my boy," said M. Bastian in low tones. "I loved you.... I could not act differently ... but I think highly of you; I will remember you." Overcome by emotion, the old Alsatian silently pressed Jean's hand and let it fall. As to Jean, trembling and dazed, he walked to the door, looking back for the last time. He was going then--in one minute he would be gone, never to return to Alsheim. "Au revoir, madame," he said. He would have liked to say au revoir to Odile, but sobs prevented the words. He gained the shadow of the corridor; they heard him hurrying away. "What does it mean?" demanded Madame Bastian. "Xavier, you are hiding something from us." The old Alsatian sobbed aloud; he threw precaution to the winds--she had guessed. "Odile," she cried, "run and say good-bye to him." Odile was already across the room; she caught Jean up at the corner. "I beg of you to tell me why you are so miserable," she cried. He turned, determined to be silent, to keep his vow. She was quite close to him; he opened his arms; she threw herself into them. "Oh God," she cried, "you are leaving; I know it--you are going."