on the ground there sleeping soundly. Slumber had
overtaken him while he kept guard over the entrance to the Paradou. He
barred the approach to it, lying at full length before its threshold,
with arms and legs spread out. His right hand, thrown back behind his
head, still clutched his dogwood staff, which he seemed to brandish like
a fiery sword. And he snored loudly in the midst of the brambles, his
face exposed to the sun, without a quiver on his tanned skin. A swarm of
big flies was hovering over his open mouth.

Abbe Mouret looked at him for a moment. He envied the slumber of that
dust-wallowing saint. He wished to drive the flies away, but they
persistently returned, and clung around the purple lips of the Brother,
who was quite unconscious of their presence. Then the Abbe strode over
his big body and entered the Paradou.

XII

Albine was seated on a patch of grass a few paces away from the wall.
She sprang up as she caught sight of Serge.

'Ah! you have come!' she cried, trembling from head to foot.

'Yes,' he answered calmly, 'I have come.'

She flung herself upon his neck, but she did not kiss him. To her bare
arms the beads of his neckband seemed very cold. She scrutinised him,
already feeling uneasy, and resuming:

'What is the matter with you? Why don't you kiss my cheeks as you used
to do? Oh! if you are ill, I will cure you once again. Now that you
are here, all our old happiness will return. There will be no more
wretchedness.... See! I am smiling. You must smile, too, Serge.'

But his face remained grave.

'I have been troubled, too,' she went on. 'I am still quite pale, am I
not? For a whole week I have been living on that patch of grass, where
you found me. I wanted one thing only, to see you coming back through
the breach in the wall. At every sound I sprang up and rushed to meet
you. But, alas! it was not you I heard. It was only the leaves rustling
in the wind. But I was sure that you would come. I should have waited
for you for years.'

Then she asked him:

'Do you still love me?'

'Yes,' he answered, 'I love you still.'

They stood looking at each other, feeling rather ill at ease. And deep
silence fell between them. Serge, who evinced perfect calmness, did not
attempt to break it. Albine twice opened her mouth to speak, but closed
it immediately, surprised at the words that rose to her lips. She could
summon up nothing but expressions tinged with bitterness. She felt tears