eeter than honey. And
we will live on nothing, for in the midst of this eternal spring, dear
soul, we will live on our kisses."

She trembled under these burning words, with which he heated her face,
and her whole being seemed to be fainting away at the representation of
these promised joys.

"Oh! in a few minutes I will be ready; but wait a little longer."

"Then, if journeying fatigues us, we will come back here. We will
rebuild the Chateau d'Hautecoeur, and we will pass the rest of our
lives there. That is my ideal dream. If it is necessary, we will spend
willingly all our fortune therein. Once more shall its donjon overlook
from its height the two valleys. We will make our home in the Pavilion
d'Honneur, between the Tower of David and the Tower of Charlemagne.
The colossal edifice shall be restored as in the days of its primitive
power: the galleries, the dwellings, the chapels, shall appear in the
same barbaric luxury as before. And I shall wish for us to lead the life
of olden times; you a princess and I a prince, surrounded by a large
company of armed vassals and of pages. Our walls of fifteen feet of
thickness will isolate us, and we shall be as our ancestors were, of
whom it is written in the Legend. When the sun goes down behind the
hills we will return from hunting, mounted on great white horses,
greeted respectfully by the peasants as they kneel before us. The horn
will resound in welcome, the drawbridge will be lowered for us. In the
evening, kings will dine at our table. At night, our couch will be on a
platform surmounted by a canopy like a throne. While we sleep peacefully
in purple and gold, soft music will be played in the distance."

Quivering with pride and pleasure, she smiled now, but soon, overcome by
the great suffering that again took possession of her, her lips assumed
a mournful expression and the smile disappeared. As with a mechanical
movement of her hands she drove away the tempting pictures he called
forth, he redoubled his ardour, and wished to make her his by seizing
her and carrying her away in his arms.

"Come, dear. Come with me. Let us go, and forget everything but our
united happiness."

Disengaging herself brusquely, she escaped him, with an instinctive
rebellion, and trying to stand up, this cry came at last from her:

"No, no! I cannot go. I no longer have the power to do so."

However, again lamenting her fate, still torn by the contest in
her soul, hesitating and stamm