I at last remembered that I had only been Madame de Meilhan's guest a few hours, and that my abrupt disappearance must appear, to say the least, strange to her. On the other hand, Edgar, whom I had treacherously abandoned in the greatest danger, would have serious grounds of complaint against me. I arose, and driving away the winged dreams that hovered around me, like a swarm of bees round a hive, prepared to join my corps, with the cowardly hope that when I arrived, the engagement might be over and the victory won. Unfortunately, or rather fortunately, I was unacquainted with the windings of the park, and wandered at random through its verdant labyrinths, the sun pouring down upon my devoted head until I heard the silvery murmur of a neighboring stream, babbling over its pebbly bed. Attracted by the freshness of the spot, I approached and in the midst of a confusion of iris, mint and bindweed, I saw a blonde head quenching its thirst at the stream. I could only see a mass of yellow hair wound in heavy golden coils around this head, and a little hand catching the water like an opal cup, which it afterwards raised to two lips as fresh as the crystal stream which they quaffed. Her face and figure being entirely concealed by the aquatic plants which grew around the spring, I took her for a child, a girl of twelve or more, the daughter perhaps of one of the persons whom I had left upon the battle-field of Friedland. I advanced a few steps nearer, and in my softest voice, for I was afraid of frightening her, said: "Mademoiselle, can you tell me if Madame de Meilhan is near here?" At these words I saw a young and beautiful creature, tall, slender, erect, lift herself like a lily from among the reeds, and trembling and pale, examine me with the air of a startled gazelle. I stood mute and motionless, gazing at her. Surely she possessed the royal beauty of the lily. An imagination enamored of the melodies of the antique muse would have immediately taken her for the nymph of that brook. Like two blue-bells in a field of ripe grain, her large blue eyes were as limpid as the stream which reflected the azure of the sky. On her brow sat the pride of the huntress Diana. Her attitude and the expression of her face betrayed a royalty which desired to conceal its greatness, a strange mixture of timorous boldness and superb timidity--and over it all, the brilliancy of youth--a nameless charm of innocence and childishness tempered in a charming manner the dignity of her noble presence.