neighborhood had turned out of no avail; and as the weather was now very
uncertain, it seemed as if her long strolls in the country roads and
fields would soon come to an end. "The day must eventually come,"
murmured she, "when this invisible prince must make his appearance." And
at last the long-expected day arrived.

It was in the middle of the month of November, and the weather was
exceedingly soft and balmy for the time of year. The sky was blue,
the few remaining leaves rustled on the trees, and an occasional bird
whistled in the hedgerows. Diana de Laurebourg was walking slowly along
the path leading to Mussidan, when all at once she heard a rustling of
branches. She turned round sharply, and all the blood in her body seemed
to rush suddenly to her heart, for through an opening in the hedge she
caught sight of the man who for the past two months had occupied all
her waking thoughts. Norbert was waiting for something with all the
eagerness of a sportsman, his finger on the trigger of his gun.

Here was the opportunity for which she had waited so long, and with such
ill-concealed impatience; and yet she could derive no advantage from it,
for what would happen? Simply this: Norbert would bow to her, and she
would reply with a slight inclination of her head, and perhaps two
months might pass away before she met him again. Just as she was about
to take some bold and decisive step she saw Norbert raise his gun and
point it in her direction. She endeavored to call out to him, but her
voice failed her, and in another moment the report rang out, and she
felt a sharp pang, like the touch of a red-hot iron upon her ankle. With
a wild shriek she threw up her arms and fell upon the pathway. She did
not lose her senses, for she heard a cry in response to her own, and the
crashing of something forcing its way through the hedge. Then she felt
a hot breath upon her face, and then something cold and wet touched her
cheek. She opened her eyes languidly, and saw Bruno licking her face and
hands.

At the same moment Norbert dashed through the hedge and stood before
her. At once she realized the advantage of her position and closed her
eyes once more. Norbert, as he hung over the seemingly unconscious form
of this fair young creature, felt that his senses were deserting him,
for he greatly feared that he had killed Mademoiselle de Laurebourg. His
first impulse was to fly precipitately, and his second to give what
aid he could to his