large rock, slightly covered with moss, and a number
of old trunks of trees, on which Madame de Tecle took her seat.

"Nothing could be better," said Camors, gayly. "I must collect my
materials."

A moment after he reappeared, bringing in his arms brushwood, and also a
travelling-rug which his servant had brought him.

He got on his knees in front of the rock, prepared the fagots, and
lighted them with a match. When the flame began to flicker on the rustic
hearth Madame de Tecle trembled with joy, and held out both hands to the
blaze.

"Ah! how nice that is!" she said; "and then it is so amusing; one would
say we had been shipwrecked.

"Now, Monsieur, if you would be perfect go and see what Durocher
reports."

He ran to the hut. When he returned he could not avoid stopping half way
to admire the elegant and simple silhouette of the young woman, defined
sharply against the blackness of the wood, her fine countenance slightly.
illuminated by the firelight. The moment she saw him:

"Well!" she cried.

"A great deal of hope."

"Oh! what happiness, Monsieur!" She pressed his hand.

"Sit down there," she said.

He sat down on a rock contiguous to hers, and replied to her eager
questions. He repeated, in detail, his conversation with the doctor, and
explained at length the properties of belladonna. She listened at first
with interest, but little by little, with her head wrapped in her veil
and resting on the boughs interlaced behind her, she seemed to be
uncomfortably resting from fatigue.

"You are likely to fall asleep there," he said, laughing.

"Perhaps!" she murmured--smiled, and went to sleep.

Her sleep resembled death, it was so profound, and so calm was the
beating of her heart, so light her breathing.

Camors knelt down again by the fire, to listen breathlessly and to gaze
upon her. From time to time he seemed to meditate, and the solitude was
disturbed only by the rustling of the leaves. His eyes followed the
flickering of the flame, sometimes resting on the white cheek, sometimes
on the grove, sometimes on the arches of the high trees, as if he wished
to fix in his memory all the details of this sweet scene. Then his gaze
rested again on the young woman, clothed in her beauty, grace, and
confiding repose.

What heavenly thoughts descended at that moment on this sombre soul--what
hesitation, what doubt assailed it! What images of peace, truth, virtue,
and happiness passed into that brain full o