oom! The sight
of the tower of Notre Dame piercing the sky with its pointed spire hurt
her, like the sight of some victorious and implacable foe. She now saw
clearly that for three years she had been deceiving herself in thinking
that she no longer hoped. This hope which she had thought dead, how it
still struggled and suffered, how it persisted in assailing her heart.
No, no, he has not become a monk, it is not he! In an access of longing,
she pressed Noemi's arm. The reassuring voice was growing weaker, was
fading away. Probably it was he, probably all was really over for ever.
The silence of the night, the sadness of the moon, the gloom of the dead
streets, an icy breeze which had sprung up, were in harmony with her
thoughts.

Just a little beyond Notre Dame they again saw the sinister-looking
wayfarer gliding along close to the wall, on the dark side of the
street. Noemi hastened her steps, herself anxious to reach home.
Carlino, perceiving that his companions were going straight to the villa
instead of crossing the bridge, which leads to the opposite shore of the
Lac d'Amour, protested loudly. How was this? What about the last scene?
Had they forgotten? Noemi showed signs of rebellion, but Jeanne, fearing
lest Carlino should discover aught of her secret, begged her to yield.

"Stop a minute or two on the bridge," Carlino called out.

They leaned against the parapet, gazing into the oval mirror of
motionless water. The moon was hidden behind the clouds.

"This absence of the moon is perfect for me," said Carlino. "But now I
would give half my future glory if a little window could be opened in
the clouds with a tiny star shining in the middle and reflected in the
water. You cannot imagine what a success this last chapter is going to
be. Listen, on the Quai de Rosaire you looked at the swans."

"But they were not there," said Noemi, interrupting him.

"Never mind," Carlino went on. "You looked at the swans in the
moonlight."

"But the moon did not touch the water," retorted Noemi.

"What does it matter?" replied Carlino, vexed. Noemi, having observed
that in that case it was useless to drag them about Bruges at such
an hour, he poetically compared his preparatory study, his almost
photographic notes, to the garlic which is useful in the kitchen, but
is not brought to table, and he continued to talk of the swans and the
moon.

"You compared the living purity with the dead purity. The old priest
utters this e