tairs. She thinks I'm asleep; I shall get back
and abed before she returns."

Then, without asking himself whether he were not too feeble, or
what danger there might be in exposing himself to the cold, he got
up, threw a gown around him, put on his slippers and went toward
the door.

"If anyone sees me, I will feign delirium," said he to himself.

The vestibule lamp was out and he found some difficulty in opening
the door; finally, he descended into the garden. It was intensely
cold, and snow had fallen. The wind shook the limbs of the trees
crusted with ice. The front of the house was sombre. One window
only was lighted--that of Tremorel's room; that was lighted
brilliantly, by a lamp and a great blazing fire. The shadow of a
man--of Hector--rested on the muslin curtains; the shape was
distinct. He was near the window, and his forehead was pressed
against the panes. Sauvresy instinctively stopped to look at his
friend, who was so at home in his house, and who, in exchange for
the most brotherly hospitality, had brought dishonor, despair and
death.

Hector made a sudden movement, and turned around as if he was
surprised by an unwonted noise. What was it? Sauvresy only knew
too well. Another shadow appeared on the curtain--that of Bertha.
And he had forced himself to doubt till now! Now proofs had come
without his seeking. What had brought her to that room, at that
hour? She seemed to be talking excitedly. He thought he could
hear that full, sonorous voice, now as clear as metal, now soft and
caressing, which had made all the chords of passion vibrate in him.
He once more saw those beautiful eyes which had reigned so
despotically over his heart, and whose expressions he knew so well.
But what was she doing? Doubtless she had gone to ask Hector
something, which he refused her, and she was pleading with him;
Sauvresy saw that she was supplicating, by her motions; he knew the
gesture well. She lifted her clasped hands as high as her forehead,
bent her head, half shut her eyes. What languor had been in her
voice when she used to say:

"Say, dear Clement, you will, will you not?"

And now she was using the same blandishments on another. Sauvresy
was obliged to support himself against a tree. Hector was evidently
refusing what she wished; then she shook her finger menacingly, and
tossed her head angrily, as if she were saying:

"You won't? You shall see, then."

And then she returned to her supplications.

"Ah,"