mpression of those long, ardent, yet timid looks; but she did not
withdraw herself from them, because she knew they were pure, and came
from the enchanted world of which she had read in the "Golden Legend";
and, in the certainty of a promised happiness, her first anxiety was
quickly changed into a delicious tranquillity.

One night, suddenly, on the ground whitened by the moon's rays, the
shadow designed itself plainly and clearly. It was indeed that of a man
whom she could not see, as he was hidden by the willows. As he did not
move, she was able to look for a long time at his shadow.

From that moment Angelique had a secret. Her bare, whitewashed chamber
was filled with it. She remained there for hours lying on her great
bed--where she seemed lost, she was so little--her eyes closed, but not
asleep, and seeing continually before her, in her waking dreams, this
motionless shadow upon the earth. When she re-opened her eyes at dawn,
her looks wandered from the enormous wardrobe to the odd carved chest,
from the porcelain stove to the little toilet-table, as if surprised
at not seeing there the mysterious silhouette, which she could have so
easily and precisely traced from memory. In her sleep she had seen it
gliding among the pale heather-blossoms on her curtains. In her dreams,
as in her waking hours, her mind was filled with it. It was a companion
shadow to her own. She had thus a double being, although she was alone
with her fancies.

This secret she confided to no one, not even to Hubertine, to whom,
until now, she had always told even her thoughts. When the latter,
surprised at her gaiety, questioned her, she blushed deeply as she
replied that the early spring had made her very happy. From morning to
evening she hummed little snatches of song, like a bee intoxicated
by the heat of the sun's rays. Never before had the chasubles she
embroidered been so resplendent with silk and gold. The Huberts smiled
as they watched her, thinking simply that this exuberance of spirits
came from her state of perfect health. As the day waned she grew more
excited, she sang at the rising of the moon, and as soon as the hour
arrived she hurried to her balcony, and waited for the shadow to appear.
During all the first quarters of the moon she found it exact at each
rendezvous, erect and silent. But that was all. What was the cause
of it? Why was it there? Was it, indeed, only a shadow? Was not it,
perhaps, the saint who had left his wi