with terror, and filled with some unutterably
strange and intolerable emotion by every slight crackling of the fire
in the grate.

"'I waited for an hour, for two hours, feeling my heart swell with a
dread I had never before experienced, such an anguish that I would not
wish the greatest of criminals to have ten minutes of such misery.
Where was my son? What was he doing?

"'About midnight, a messenger brought me a note from my lover. I still
know its contents by heart:

"'"Has your son returned? I did not find him. I am down here. I do not
want to go up at this hour."

"'I wrote in pencil on the same slip of paper:

"'"Jean has not returned. You must go and find him."

"'And I remained all night in the armchair, waiting for him.

"'I felt as if I were going mad. I longed to have to run wildly about,
to roll myself on the ground. And yet I did not even stir, but kept
waiting hour after hour. What was going to happen? I tried to imagine,
to guess. But I could form no conception, in spite of my efforts, in
spite of the tortures of my soul!

"'And now my apprehension was lest they might meet. What would they do
in that case? What would my son do? My mind was lacerated by fearful
doubts, by terrible suppositions.

"'You understand what I mean, do you not, monsieur?

"'My chambermaid, who knew nothing, who understood nothing, was coming
in every moment, believing, naturally, that I had lost my reason. I
sent her away with a word or a movement of the hand. She went for the
doctor, who found me in the throes of a nervous fit.

"'I was put to bed. I got an attack of brain-fever.

"'When I regained consciousness, after a long illness, I saw beside my
bed my--lover--alone.

"'I exclaimed:

"'"My son? Where is my son?"

"'He replied:

"'"No, no, I assure you every effort has been made by me to find him,
but I have failed!"

"'Then, becoming suddenly exasperated and even indignant--for women
are subject to such outbursts of unaccountable and unreasoning
anger--I said:

"'"I forbid you to come near me or to see me again unless you find
him. Go away!"

"'He did go away.

"'I have never seen one or the other of them since, monsieur, and thus
I have lived for the last twenty years.

"'Can you imagine what all this meant to me? Can you understand this
monstrous punishment, this slow perpetual laceration of a mother's
heart, this abominable, endless waiting? Endless, did I say? No: it is
about to end, for I