Peyraque spread clean straw around everywhere, brought in a supply of wood, rummaged in the cupboard, found some bread, and urged Caroline to eat and rest. The Marquis, with a look, begged her to think of herself, for she dared not leave him a minute, and still held his hands in hers. He wanted to speak; he was able to speak now, and yet he was afraid to say a word. He feared she would go away from him as soon as she saw he knew himself beloved; and then Peyraque puzzled him cruelly. He did not comprehend in the least the part played by this rustic Providence which, in its watch over Caroline, had shown itself so obstinate and so merciless toward him; but which was now beginning to regard him with unbounded solicitude and devotion. At last Peyraque went out. He could not forget his poor horse,--his faithful companion,--which he blamed himself for having treated so brutally, and which, on his arrival, he had been forced to intrust to the care of strangers. "Caroline," said the Marquis, having seated himself on a stool, and still leaning on her arm, "I had many things to tell you, but I have not my reason,--no, really, I have n't the use of it, and I'm afraid to talk in my delirium. Forgive me, I am so happy,--happy to see you, to feel you near me, now I have come back again from the verge of death. But I cannot trouble you any more. Heavens! what a burden I have been on your life! It shall be so no longer; this is only an accident,--a foolish, imprudent act on my part; but how could I consent to lose you again? You do not know, you never will know,--no, you have no idea, you don't comprehend what you are to me; and perhaps you don't care ever to comprehend it! To-morrow, perhaps, you will shun me again. And why, pray? Here, read!" he added, searching for and then handing her the crumpled page of the letter begun at Lantriac that very morning; "it maybe illegible now; the rain and the snow--" "No," said Caroline, leaning toward the fire, "I can see, I read perfectly, and--I understand. I knew before. I guessed; and I accept. It was the wish of my heart,--the dream of my life. My heart and my life, do they not both belong to you?" "Alas! no, not yet; but if you would believe in me--"