The lieutenant raised his hat, but made no reply. He took her hand, and drew her aside; he did not raise it to his lips; no accustomed words of admiration came from him; his eyes were hard and feverish, and he drew her near the wood-yard close by. Lucienne continued to smile bravely, though her heart was heavy with painful dread. "Where are you taking me? Who is this churlish friend, who won't even say good day? You, so particular----" "Come, we shan't be seen here," he said; he drew her behind a pile of wood into a kind of retreat formed by three unequal piles of planks. Farnow dropped Lucienne's hand. "Is Jean here? Be careful; is he at Alsheim?" His eyes expressed his anguish, his manner an imperious will struggling against calamity. "No; he is not here," replied Lucienne simply. "You expect him, then?" "No." "Then we are lost, mademoiselle, lost!" "Mademoiselle?" "Yes; if he is not here he has deserted." "Ah!" The young girl recoiled, supporting herself against the wood, her eyes haggard, her arms outstretched. "Deserted? Lost? Can't you see that you are killing me with such words? Do you really mean Jean? Deserted! Are you sure?" "Since he is not here, I am convinced of it. He took a ticket for Russ-Hersbach--do you understand, Russ-Hersbach? He must be across the frontier. He left Strasburg more than three hours ago." He laughed harshly, angrily, beside himself with misery. "Don't you remember? He swore to your mother he would go to the barracks. He did go. To-day the time for his promise expired, and he deserted. And now...." "Yes ... now?" Lucienne asked no proof. She believed it. Her bosom heaved; she let go her hold on the wood, and joined her hands beseechingly. She was obliged to repeat her question; Farnow stood motionless, grief-stricken. "What shall you do now, Wilhelm?" Farnow drew himself up in his dusty uniform; his brow was contracted. "I must leave you," he said in a low voice." "Leave me, because my brother has deserted?" "Yes." "But this is madness!" "It is my duty as a soldier." "Then you do not love me?" "Love you. Ah!... But honour forbids me to marry you. I cannot become the brother-in-law of a deserter. I am an officer, a von Farnow!" "Well, cease to be an officer and continue to love me," cried Lucienne, holding out her arms to the rigid figure in blue. "Wilhelm, true honour consists in loving me, Lucienne Oberlé, in keeping the promise you made me! Leave my brother to go his own way, but don't spoil our two lives." Farnow could scarcely speak; the veins of his neck were swollen with his efforts for self-control. "There is worse to come," he said at last, "you must know the truth, Lucienne. I must denounce him." "Denounce him? Jean? You cannot. I forbid you!" cried Lucienne with a gesture of horror. "I must do so. Military law compels me to do so." "It is not true!--it is too cruel." "I will prove it to you. Hermann!" Hermann came forward in amazement.