He pricked up his ears and assured himself that nothing disturbed the profound silence of the room, but there could be no doubt about it, there was no light, even half-extinguished, on the mantelpiece. It was a very bad sign. "Look out for the gun-shot," he reflected a little, then he ventured to knock against the window with his finger. No answer. He knocked harder. I must finish it one way or another, even if I have to break the window. When he was knocking very hard, he thought he could catch a glimpse through the darkness of something like a white shadow that was crossing the room. At last there was no doubt about it. He saw a shadow which appeared to advance with extreme slowness. Suddenly he saw a cheek placed against the pane to which his eye was glued. He shuddered and went away a little, but the night was so black that he could not, even at this distance, distinguish if it were Madame de Rênal. He was frightened of her crying out at first in alarm. He heard the dogs prowling and growling around the foot of the ladder. "It is I," he repeated fairly loudly. "A friend." No answer. The white phantom had disappeared. "Deign to open to me. I must speak to you. I am too unhappy." And he knocked hard enough to break the pane. A crisp sound followed. The casement fastening of the window yielded. He pushed the casement and leaped lightly into the room. The white phantom flitted away from him. He took hold of its arms. It was a woman. All his ideas of courage vanished. "If it is she, what is she going to say?" What were his emotions when a little cry gave him to understand, that it was Madame de Rênal? He clasped her in his arms. She trembled and scarcely had the strength to push him away. "Unhappy man. What are you doing?" Her agonised voice could scarcely articulate the words. Julien thought that her voice rang with the most genuine indignation. "I have come to see you after a cruel separation of more than fourteen months." "Go away, leave me at once. Oh, M. Chélan, why did you prevent me writing to him? I could then have foreseen this horror." She pushed him away with a truly extraordinary strength. "Heaven has deigned to enlighten me," she repeated in a broken voice. "Go away! Flee!" "After fourteen months of unhappiness I shall certainly not leave you without a word. I want to know all you have done. Yes, I have loved you enough to deserve this confidence. I want to know everything." This authoritative tone dominated Madame de Rênal's heart in spite of herself. Julien, who was hugging her passionately and resisting her efforts to get loose, left off clasping her in his arms. This reassured Madame de Rênal a little. "I will take away the ladder," he said, "to prevent it compromising us in case some servant should be awakened by the noise, and go on a round."