“What!” cried the Wolf-leader, as if he were still Thibault the shoe-maker, “you do not know me again, Agnelette?” “Ah! yes indeed, I know you, Thibault; and it is because I know who you are,” cried the young woman, “that I am afraid!” Then throwing herself on her knees, and clasping her hands: “Oh do not kill me, Thibault!” she cried, “do not kill me! it would be such dreadful trouble for the poor old grandmother! Thibault, do not kill me!” The Wolf-leader stood overcome with consternation; up to this hour he had not fully realised the hideous renown which he had gained; but the terror which the sight of him inspired in the woman who had loved him and whom he still loved, filled him with a horror of himself. “I, kill you, Agnelette!” he said, “just when I have snatched you from death! Oh! how you must hate and despise me for such a thought to enter your head.” “I do not hate you, Thibault,” said the young woman, “but I hear such things about you, that I feel afraid of you.” “And do they say nothing of the infidelity which has led Thibault to commit such crimes?” “I do not understand you,” said Agnelette looking at Thibault with her large eyes, blue as the heavens. “What!” exclaimed Thibault, “you do not understand that I loved you--that I adored you Agnelette, and that the loss of you sent me out of my mind?” “If you loved me, if you adored me, Thibault, what prevented you from marrying me?” “The spirit of evil,” muttered Thibault. “I too loved you,” continued the young woman, “and I suffered cruelly waiting for you.” Thibault heaved a sigh. “You loved me, Agnelette?” he asked. “Yes,” replied the young woman with her soft voice and gentle eyes. “But now, all is over,” said Thibault, “and you love me no more.” “Thibault,” answered Agnelette, “I no longer love you, because it is no longer right to love you; but one cannot always forget one’s first love as one would wish.” “Agnelette!” cried Thibault, trembling all over, “be careful what you say!” “Why should I be careful what I say, since it is the truth,” said the girl with an innocent shake of the head. “The day you told me that you wished to make me your wife, I believed you, Thibault; for why should I think that you would lie to me when I had just done you a service? Then, later I met you, but I did not go in search of you; you came to me, you spoke words of love to me, you were the first to refer to the promise that you had made me. And it was not my fault either, Thibault, that I was afraid of that ring which you wore, which was large enough for you and yet, oh, it was horrible! not big enough for one of my fingers.”