He held out his arms; and she came instantly into them, and gave her lips to him, yielding herself utterly with just one sigh like a dreaming child’s. All discretion, all good resolutions were forgotten in the passionate stress of that moment. He strained her to his breast with a fierce tyranny of possession; and, her face lifted close to his, she whispered out her soul. “I shall not be false, even though--O, you will believe me, you will believe me, will you not?” “Hush!” he said. “What is there to fear?” “I do not know,” she sighed. “Not the cryptic utterances of that rude old woman?” “Your mind, too, is troubled. How can I be so close to you and not feel it. Bonbec, I am afraid of to-morrow.” “Come away with me then--here, to-night. I will get horses, and we will fly northwards--Isabel--to the unknown Eros! He gave us to one another--O, long long past in the beautiful gardens!--and I cannot live without you, beloved. Duty, honour, reason--throw them all to the wolves, so that our love alone remain to us.” She clasped her white arms about his neck, and with one soft hand caressed the hair from his forehead. “Would it remain, dear my lord? Or would you not come to grudge the price you paid for it? And yet I love you so that I must risk it; but not till every other hope is gone.” “What hope, Isabel?” “Ah! I do not know. But give me that plea of desperation for my pretext. Then, at last, if you call to me I will come.” “My princess; my true heart!” “Not your princess, but your slave, Bonbec.” “My bird, then.” “O, yes, indeed--caught captive by a song, and trembling in your hand.” Some noise, real or imaginary, startled them. He stirred; but she would not let him go. “Yet one moment, beloved.” “Is it she returning?” he said. “Well, let her find us. To die for you, Isabel--what a little thing it sounds beside my love! Just to change this mortal suit for one more meet to await our nuptials in! Yet how sweet the body clings to sweet!” She struggled to free herself--to push him from her. “No, go,” she said. “For pity’s sake, Bonbec! O, you kill my heart with fear!” “One last kiss to comfort it.” She tore herself from him, and he left her, going gaily through the empty room. All that night he slept on roses, and all the following day he walked on air, his brain drugged with an exultant ecstasy which bore him far above the world of common thoughts and common apprehensions. Some instinct holding him from presuming too soon on a transcendent favour, he took horse and rode far into the country, returning only to the palace when night was falling. And presently, hardly knowing what to hope or what to fear from it, the summons reached him to attend the ladies in the _salle-d’audience_. She was not there when he entered it; only the old marquise, who rose with unwonted condescension and alacrity to greet him. “Ah, monsieur!” she said; “you are to congratulate us and yourself on the happy termination of your labours.”