you," said he, putting her into the big chair again; "you
shall go to him. Stay there a minute and I'll get my railway guides and
look it up right away. Collect yourself, be a good girl!"

He went out, and she folded her hands and prayed wildly:

"God, let him live! God, take me to him!" over and over again.

And then her impatience stretched the seconds into minutes, and she
sought her cousin's room, which was just across the hall from the suite
given to herself.

She flung the door open without knocking and entered precipitately,
expecting to find Jack and the railway guides. But Jack was not there.

There _was_ a man there, sitting by the window, twisting his moustache
and biting his lips in raging impatience. To this man Jack had said
three minutes before, "She'll be in here in less than sixty seconds. I'm
going to the steamship office," and then the man had been left to wait,
and his was not a patient disposition....

A tall man, a dark man, a man whose hair lay in loose, damp, wavy locks
above his high forehead; a man whose eyes were heavy-circled underneath,
and whose long, white hands beat nervously upon the chair-arms.

At the sound of the opening door the man looked up. She was there,
staring as if petrified, by the door.

He made one bound. She was within his arms.

"_Alors tu m'aimes!_" he cried, and something mutual swallowed her reply
and the consciousness of both for one long heaven-rifting minute.

"_Alors tu m'aimes?_" he said again, with a great quivering breath; "_tu
m'aimes, n'est-ce pas?_"

"With my whole heart and soul and life," she confessed.

And then he kissed her hastily, hungrily, murmuring:

"_Ma cherie!_ my angel, mine, mine!"

She cried a little and laughed a little, looked up a little and looked
down a little, tried to draw away from him and found herself drawn yet
nearer; was kissed, and kissed him; was looked upon and returned the
look; felt the strength of his love and felt the strength of her own;
feeling at last that the wavelets of Lucerne which had splashed softly
up against the stones at Zurich, and murmured in her ears at Constance,
had been swelled by the current of the Isar into a mighty resistless
storm that here, this day, upon the rocky coast of the Mediterranean,
had come resistlessly roaring upwards, and, sweeping away all barriers,
carried her heart and her life out into its bottomless depths
forevermore.

"_Attends!_" he said, after a minute, loosing he