metery, where the crosses
and gravestones glistened in the snow, I said to myself: "Those who
sleep there are no longer cold!" I drew my cloak over my breast, and
hid my nose in the fur collar, thanking Monsieur Goulden for his lucky
thought. I also thrust my hands into the muffler to the elbows, and
ran along in the deep trench, extending farther than the eye could
reach, that the soldiers had made from the town as far as Quatre-Vents.
On each side were walls of ice. In some places swept by the wind, I
could see the oak forest and the bluish mountain, both seeming much
nearer than they were, on account of the clearness of the air. Not a
dog barked in a farm-yard; it was too cold even for that.

But in spite of all this the thought of Catharine warmed my heart, and
soon I descried the first houses of Quatre-Vents. The chimneys and the
thatched roofs, to the right and left of the road, were scarcely higher
than the mountains of snow, and the villagers had dug trenches along
the walls, so that they could pass to each other's houses. But that
day every family kept around its hearth, and the little round
window-panes seemed painted red, from the great fires burning within.
Before each door was a truss of straw to keep the cold from entering
beneath it.

At the fifth door to the right I stopped to take off my mittens; then I
opened and closed it very quickly. I was at the house of Gredel Bauer,
the widow of Matthias Bauer, and Catharine's mother.

As I entered, and while Aunt Gredel, seated by the hearth, astonished
at my fox-skin collar, was yet turning her gray head, Catharine, in her
Sunday dress--a pretty striped petticoat, a kerchief with long fringe
folded across her bosom, a red apron fastened around her slender waist,
a pretty cap of blue silk with black velvet bands setting off her rosy
and white face, soft eyes, and rather short nose--Catharine, I say,
exclaimed:

"It is Joseph!"

And without waiting to look twice, she ran to greet me, saying:

"I knew the cold would not keep you from coming."

I was so happy that I could not speak. I took off my cloak, which I
hung upon a nail on the wall, with my mittens; I took off Monsieur
Goulden's great shoes, and turned pale with joy.

I would have said something agreeable, but could not; suddenly I
exclaimed:

"See here, Catharine; here is something for your birthday, but you must
give me a kiss before opening the box."

She put up her pretty red cheek