rmonious charm of her whole person, its strength, its grace, its
tranquil frankness--and then he had turned his gaze away. He said to
himself that all this was not for him; the beauty of women and the
friendship of men were not for him. He accepted that feeling with a
purposeful sternness, and tried to pass on. It was only her outstretched
hand which brought about the recognition. It stands recorded in the
pages of his self-confession, that it nearly suffocated him physically
with an emotional reaction of hate and dismay, as though her appearance
had been a piece of accomplished treachery.

He faced about. The considerable elevation of the terrace concealed them
from anyone lingering in the doorway of the house; and even from the
upstairs windows they could not have been seen. Through the thickets run
wild, and the trees of the gently sloping grounds, he had cold, placid
glimpses of the lake. A moment of perfect privacy had been vouchsafed
to them at this juncture. I wondered to myself what use they had made of
that fortunate circumstance.

"Did you have time for more than a few words?" I asked.

That animation with which she had related to me the incidents of her
visit to the Chateau Borel had left her completely. Strolling by my
side, she looked straight before her; but I noticed a little colour on
her cheek. She did not answer me.

After some little time I observed that they could not have hoped to
remain forgotten for very long, unless the other two had discovered
Madame de S-- swooning with fatigue, perhaps, or in a state of morbid
exaltation after the long interview. Either would require their devoted
ministrations. I could depict to myself Peter Ivanovitch rushing busily
out of the house again, bareheaded, perhaps, and on across the terrace
with his swinging gait, the black skirts of the frock-coat floating
clear of his stout light grey legs. I confess to having looked upon
these young people as the quarry of the "heroic fugitive." I had the
notion that they would not be allowed to escape capture. But of that I
said nothing to Miss Haldin, only as she still remained uncommunicative,
I pressed her a little.

"Well--but you can tell me at least your impression."

She turned her head to look at me, and turned away again.

"Impression?" she repeated slowly, almost dreamily; then in a quicker
tone--

"He seems to be a man who has suffered more from his thoughts than from
evil fortune."

"From his thoughts,