ove Marie, it's true, and I felt that I could not conceal it, that
you yourself would notice it at last. But there was no occasion for me to
tell you of it, for I was sure of myself, and would have fled rather than
have allowed a single word to cross my lips. I suffered in silence and
alone, and you cannot know how great my torture was! It is even cruel on
your part to speak to me of it; for now I am absolutely compelled to
leave you.... I have already, on several occasions, thought of doing
so. If I have come back here, it was doubtless through weakness, but also
on account of my affection for you all. And what mattered my presence
here? Marie ran no risk. She does not love me."

"She does love you!" Guillaume answered. "I questioned her yesterday, and
she had to confess that she loved you."

At this Pierre, utterly distracted, caught Guillaume by the shoulders and
gazed into his eyes. "Oh! brother, brother! what is this you say? Why say
a thing which would mean terrible misfortune for us all? Even if it were
true, my grief would far exceed my joy, for I will not have you suffer.
Marie belongs to you. To me she is as sacred as a sister. And if there be
only my madness to part you, it will pass by, I shall know how to conquer
it."

"Marie loves you," repeated Guillaume in his gentle, obstinate way. "I
don't reproach you with anything. I well know that you have struggled,
and have never betrayed yourself to her either by word or glance.
Yesterday she herself was still ignorant that she loved you, and I had to
open her eyes.... What would you have? I simply state a fact: she
loves you."

This time Pierre, still quivering, made a gesture of mingled rapture and
terror, as if some divine and long-desired blessing were falling upon him
from heaven and crushing him beneath its weight.

"Well, then," he said, after a brief pause, "it is all over.... Let us
kiss one another for the last time, and then I'll go."

"Go? Why? You must stay with us. Nothing could be more simple: you love
Marie and she loves you. I give her to you."

A loud cry came from Pierre, who wildly raised his hands again with a
gesture of fright and rapture. "You give me Marie?" he replied. "You, who
adore her, who have been waiting for her for months? No, no, it would
overcome me, it would terrify me, as if you gave me your very heart after
tearing it from your breast. No, no! I will not accept your sacrifice!"

"But as it is only gratitude and affect