, and
after a little she got up and went away. Her dress, which brushed him in
passing, was wet with dew. He watched her slight figure, moving like a
spirit along the lane, until a turn in the hedge hid her from sight.
Then he turned again towards the swamp, and resumed his restless walk.

Some hours later he crossed the rose garden. The moon was under a cloud;
the trunks of the crepe-myrtles were like pale spectres in the uncertain
light. The night wind blew in chill and moist from the swamp. The house
was dark and quiet, but he heard the blind of an upper window turned
stealthily as he stepped into the latticed arcade.

"The old madame is watching me--and her," he said to himself.

His agitation had now become supreme. The faint familiar perfume that
stole about his room filled him with a kind of frenzy. Was this the
chivalric devotion of which he had so boasted? this the desire to
protect a young and defenceless woman? He no longer dared question
himself. He seemed to feel her warm breath against his cheeks. He threw
up his arms with a gesture of despair. A sigh stirred the deathlike
stillness. At last! She was there, just within his doorway; the pale
glimmer of the veiled moon fell upon her. Her trailing laces wrapped her
about like a silver mist; her arms were folded across her bosom; her
eyes--he dared not interpret the meaning which he read in those
wonderful eyes. She turned slowly and went down the hall. He followed
her, reeling like a drunkard. His feet seemed clogged, the blood ran
thick in his veins, a strange roaring was in his ears. His hot eyes
strained after her as she vanished, just beyond his touch, into the room
next his own. He threw himself against the closed door in a transport of
rage. It yielded suddenly, as if opened from within. A full blaze of
light struck his eyes, blinding him for an instant; then he saw her. A
huge four-posted bed with silken hangings occupied a recess in the room.
Across its foot a low couch was drawn. She had thrown herself there. Her
head was pillowed on crimson gold-embroidered cushions; her diaphanous
draperies, billowing foamlike over her, half concealed, half revealed
her lovely form; her hair waved away from her brows, and spread like a
shower of gold over the cushions. One bare arm hung to the floor;
something jewel-like gleamed in the half-closed hand; the other lay
across her forehead, and from beneath it her eyes were fixed upon him.
He sprang forward with a c