e Commune. She would therefore
be free and would not need to invent a pretext to go out for a few
moments. She could not help, however, but feel that this was a
bold and most venturesome step for her to take; and, when her mother
went out, she had not yet fully decided what to do. But her bonnet
was within reach, and Marius' letter was in her pocket. She went
to sit at the window. The street was solitary and silent as of
old. Night was coming; and heavy black clouds floated over Paris.
The heat was overpowering: there was not a breath of air.

One by one, as the hour was approaching when she expected to see
Marius, the hesitations of the young girl vanished like smoke. She
feared but one thing,--that he would not come, or that he may
already have come and left, without succeeding in seeing her.

Already did the objects become less distinct; and the gas was being
lit in the back-shops, when she recognized him on the other side of
the street. He looked up as he went by; and, without stopping, he
addressed her a rapid gesture, which she alone could understand, and
which meant, "Come, I beseech you!"

Her heart beating loud enough to be heard, Mlle. Gilberte ran down
the stairs. But it was only when she found herself in the street
that she could appreciate the magnitude of the risk she was running.
Concierges and shopkeepers were all sitting in front of their doors,
taking the fresh air. All knew her. Would they not be surprised
to see her out alone at such an hour? Twenty steps in front of her
she could see Marius. But he had understood the danger; for,
instead of turning the corner of the Rue des Minimes, he followed
the Rue St. Gilles straight, and only stopped on the other side of
the Boulevard.

Then only did Mlle. Gilberte join him; and she could not withhold
an exclamation, when she saw that he was as pale as death, and
scarcely able to stand and to walk.

"How imprudent of you to have returned so soon!" she said.

A little blood came to M. de Tregars' cheeks. His face brightened
up, and, in a voice quivering with suppressed passion,

"It would have been more imprudent still to stay away," he uttered.
"Far from you, I felt myself dying."

They were both leaning against the door of a closed shop; and they
were as alone in the midst of the throng that circulated on the
Boulevards, busy looking at the fearful wrecks of the Commune.

"And besides," added Marius, "have I, then, a minute to lose?