nlight that she half
thought she was on a cloud in the midst of the heavens, borne along by
a flight of silent, invisible wings. For a moment she felt the full
swinging of it; it did not seem at all strange or unnatural to her. But
her sight soon grew accustomed to the reality; her bed was again in its
usual corner, and she was in it, not moving her head, her eyes alone
turning from side to side, as she lay in the midst of this lake of
beaming rays, with the bouquet of violets upon her lips.

Why was it that she was thus in a state of waiting? Why could she not
sleep? She was sure that she expected someone. That she had grown quite
calm was a sign that her hero was about to appear. This consoling
light, which put to flight the darkness of all bad dreams, announced
his arrival. He was on his way, and the moon, whose brightness almost
equalled that of the sun, was simply his forerunner. She must be ready
to greet him.

The chamber was as if hung with white velvet now, so they could see each
other well. Then she got up, dressed herself thoroughly, putting on a
simple white gown of foulard, the same she had worn the day of their
excursion to the ruins of Hautecoeur. She did not braid her hair, but
let it hang over her shoulders. She put a pair of slippers upon her bare
feet, and drawing an armchair in front of the window, seated herself,
and waited in patience.

Angelique did not pretend to know how he would appear. Without doubt, he
would not come up the stairs, and it might be that she would simply see
him over the Clos-Marie, while she leaned from the balcony. Still,
she kept her place on the threshold of the window, as it seemed to her
useless to go and watch for him just yet. So vague was her idea of real
life, so mystic was love, that she did not understand in her imaginative
nature why he might not pass through the walls, like the saints in the
legends. Why should not miracles come now, as in the olden days, for had
not all this been ordained from the beginning?

Not for a moment did she think she was alone to receive him. No, indeed!
She felt as if she were surrounded by the crowd of virgins who had
always been near her, since her early youth. They entered on the rays of
the moonlight, they came from the great dark trees with their blue-green
tops in the Bishop's garden, from the most intricate corners of the
entanglement of the stone front of the Cathedral. From all the familiar
and beloved horizon of the Chevr