the presence of another person, made us start
and turn round abruptly. Jean, my son, stood there, livid, staring at
us.

"'There was a moment of atrocious confusion. I drew back, holding out
my hand toward my son as if in supplication; but I could not see him. He
had gone.

"'We remained facing each other--my lover and I--crushed, unable to
utter a word. I sank into an armchair, and I felt a desire, a vague,
powerful desire, to flee, to go out into the night, and to disappear
forever. Then convulsive sobs rose in my throat, and I wept, shaken
with spasms, my heart breaking, all my nerves writhing with the horrible
sensation of an irreparable, misfortune, and with that dreadful sense of
shame which, in such moments as this, fills a mother's heart.

"'He looked at me in a terrified manner, not venturing to approach, to
speak to me, or to touch me, for fear of the boy's return. At last he
said:

"'I am going to follow him-to talk to him--to explain matters to him. In
short, I must see him and let him know----"

"'And he hurried away.

"'I waited--waited in a distracted frame of mind, trembling at the
least sound, starting with fear and with some unutterably strange and
intolerable emotion at every slight crackling of the fire in the grate.

"'I waited an hour, two hours, feeling my heart swell with a dread I
had never before experienced, such anguish that I would not wish the
greatest criminal to endure ten minutes of such misery. Where was my
son? What was he doing?

"'About midnight, a messenger brought me a note from my lover. I still
know its contents by heart:

"'Has your son returned? I did not find him. I am down here. I do not
want to go up at this hour."

"'I wrote in pencil on the same slip of paper:

"'Jean has not returned. You must find him."

"'And I 'remained all night in the armchair, waiting for him.

"'I felt as if I were going mad. I longed to run wildly about, to roll
on the ground. And yet I did not even stir, but kept waiting hour after
hour. What was going to happen? I tried to imagine, to guess. But
I could form no conception, in spite of my efforts, in spite of the
tortures of my soul!

"'And now I feared that they might meet. What would they do in that
case? What would my son do? My mind was torn with fearful doubts, with
terrible suppositions.

"'You can understand my feelings, can you not, monsieur? "'My
chambermaid, who knew nothing, who understood nothing, came into the
r