“She cannot be long now,” I muttered, to assure myself, and then my straining eyes saw a gray figure flit across a band of light in the avenue, and still keeping under cover of the trees I hastened toward it. Nearer and nearer came the figure. It was Marie, and stepping out from the shadow, I called: “Marie! It is I--Vibrac.” She stopped, hesitated, then came forward slowly, and taking her hand in mine, I drew her toward me. For one brief moment she remained thus, her head resting upon my shoulder, and strong man as I was, I stood there shivering at her touch like the leaves of the trees above me. “At last!” I murmured, “at last!” But my voice seemed to bring her to herself. With a little gasp she freed herself from me, and when I would have restrained her she exclaimed: “Let me go! I cannot talk like this. I want to tell you something.” “Marie! There is but little time.” “But time for what I have to say. Oh, Vibrac! Have you thought of what this will all lead to?” “To happiness for us.” “Happiness! Do you think there can be happiness when there will be nothing but useless regrets for the past that can never be undone. With time you will realize all this. You will hate and despise me.” “Marie!” “Yes, hate and despise me for what I am. And I--even now I hate--I despise myself.” “Marie! What new madness is this? Surely you do not doubt me? I love you and you only. Far away from France what shall we care of babblers who talk? What is the world to us who are all in all to each other?” And in my eagerness I placed my hand on her arm. “Yes, all in all in sin, and we cannot go away from ourselves. Don’t touch me now. I must say what I came to tell you. Monsieur, I will save you from yourself--I must save myself too!” And then, with pitiful entreaty in her voice, “Oh, Vibrac! Give me strength. Help me a little!” “I--I do not understand,” I stammered, though I knew well what she meant. “You do not understand? You must. Oh, Vibrac! Do you not see that in a moment of wicked folly we resolved to take a step from which there can be no withdrawal. Oh! I do not blame you. It was my fault to have listened to you, to have led you on unwittingly--and you are but a boy still! But I want you to be a brave man. Banish me from your thoughts! I am not what you think--but, God knows, I am not a bad woman--and there is time yet to draw back--to save myself and you.” “You would desert me?” I asked bitterly, a dull despair in my heart. “No!” she answered, the low, rich tones of her voice vibrating through the night. “I would stand by you and recall you to your strength. God would desert us if we did this thing.” “We should have thought of that before--it is too late now.” “No--it is not too late--you must do as I tell you.”