to overflowing. She longed for
some spot where she could weep unseen; where the sunshine and the blue
sky would not mock her grief; and seeing in front of her a little clump
of alders, which grew beside the stream, in a bend that in winter was
marshy, she hastened towards it.

Madame St. Lo saw her figure blend with the shadow of the trees.

"Quite _a la_ Ronsard, I give my word!" she murmured. "And now she is
out of sight! _La, la_! I could play at the game myself, and carve
sweet sorrow on the barks of trees, if it were not so lonesome! And if I
had a man!"

And gazing pensively at the stream and the willows, my lady tried to work
herself into a proper frame of mind; now murmuring the name of one
gallant, and now, finding it unsuited, the name of another. But the soft
inflection would break into a giggle, and finally into a yawn; and, tired
of the attempt, she began to pluck grass and throw it from her. By-and-by
she discovered that Madame Carlat and the women, who had their place a
little apart, had disappeared; and affrighted by the solitude and
silence--for neither of which she was made--she sprang up and stared
about her, hoping to discern them. Right and left, however, the sweep of
hillside curved upward to the skyline, lonely and untenanted; behind her
the castled rock frowned down on the rugged gorge and filled it with
dispiriting shadow. Madame St. Lo stamped her foot on the turf.

"The little fool!" she murmured pettishly. "Does she think that I am to
be murdered that she may fatten on sighs? Oh, come up, Madame, you must
be dragged out of this!" And she started briskly towards the alders,
intent on gaining company as quickly as possible.

She had gone about fifty yards, and had as many more to traverse when she
halted. A man, bent double, was moving stealthily along the farther side
of the brook, a little in front of her. Now she saw him, now she lost
him; now she caught a glimpse of him again, through a screen of willow
branches. He moved with the utmost caution, as a man moves who is
pursued or in danger; and for a moment she deemed him a peasant whom the
bathers had disturbed and who was bent on escaping. But when he came
opposite to the alder-bed she saw that that was his point, for he
crouched down, sheltered by a willow, and gazed eagerly among the trees,
always with his back to her; and then he waved his hand to some one in
the wood.

Madame St. Lo drew in her breath. As if he h