thought Sauvresy, "he can resist her prayers; I never had
such courage. He can preserve his coolness, his will, when she
looks at him; I never said no to her; rather, I never waited for
her to ask anything of me; I have passed my life in watching her
lightest fancies, to gratify them. Perhaps that is what has
ruined me!"

Hector was obstinate, and Bertha was roused little by little; she
must be angry. She recoiled, holding out her arms, her head thrown
back; she was threatening him. At last he was conquered; he nodded,
"Yes." Then she flung herself upon him, and the two shadows were
confounded in a long embrace.

Sauvresy could not repress an agonized cry, which was lost amid the
noises of the night. He had asked for certainty; here it was. The
truth, indisputable, evident, was clear to him. He had to seek for
nothing more, now, except for the means to punish surely and
terribly. Bertha and Hector were talking amicably. Sauvresy saw
that she was about to go downstairs, and that he could not now go
for the letter. He went in hurriedly, forgetting, in his fear of
being discovered, to lock the garden door. He did not perceive that
he had been standing with naked feet in the snow, till he had
returned to his bedroom again; he saw some flakes on his slippers,
and they were damp; quickly he threw them under the bed, and jumped
in between the clothes, and pretended to be asleep.

It was time, for Bertha soon came in. She went to the bed, and
thinking that he had not woke up, returned to her embroidery by the
fire. Tremorel also soon reappeared; he had forgotten to take his
paper, and had come back for it. He seemed uneasy.

"Have you been out to-night, Madame?" asked he, in a low voice.

"No."

"Have all the servants gone to bed?"

"I suppose so; but why do you ask?"

"Since I have been upstairs, somebody has gone out into the garden,
and come back again."

Bertha looked at him with a troubled glance.

"Are you sure of what you say?"

"Certainly. Snow is falling, and whoever went out brought some
back on his shoes. This has melted in the vestibule--"

Mme. Sauvresy seized the lamp, and interrupting Hector, said:

"Come."

Tremorel was right. Here and there on the vestibule pavement were
little puddles.

"Perhaps this water has been here some time," suggested Bertha.

"No. It was not there an hour ago, I could swear. Besides, see,
here is a little snow that has not melted yet."

"It must have been one of