our, as nothing broke the oppressive
stillness of this bright autumn night, I said, in a low tone:

"Are you quite sure he is passing this way?"

Herve winced as if I had bitten him, and with his mouth close to my
ear, he said:

"Make no mistake about it. I am quite sure."

And once more there was silence.

I believe I was beginning to get drowsy when my husband pressed my
arm, and his voice, changed to a hiss, said:

"Do you see him over there under the trees?"

I looked in vain; I could distinguish nothing. And slowly Herve now
cocked his gun, all the time fixing his eyes on my face.

I was myself making ready to fire, and suddenly, thirty paces in front
of us, appeared in the full light of the moon a man who was hurrying
forward with rapid movements, his body bent, as if he were trying to
escape.

I was so stupefied that I uttered a loud cry; but, before I could turn
round, there was a flash before my eyes; I heard a deafening report,
and I saw the man rolling on the ground, like a wolf hit by a bullet.

I burst into dreadful shrieks, terrified, almost going mad; then a
furious hand--it was Herve's--seized me by the throat. I was flung
down on the ground, then carried off by his strong arms. He ran,
holding me up, till we reached the body lying on the grass, and he
threw me on top of it violently, as if he wanted to break my head.

I thought I was lost; he was going to kill me; and he had just raised
his heel up to my forehead when, in his turn, he was gripped, knocked
down before I could yet realize what had happened.

I rose up abruptly, and I saw kneeling on top of him Porquita, my
maid, clinging like a wild cat to him with desperate energy, tearing
off his beard, his moustache, and the skin of his face.

Then, as if another idea had suddenly taken hold of her mind, she rose
up, and, flinging herself on the corpse, she threw her arms around the
dead man, kissing his eyes and his mouth, opening the dead lips with
her own lips, trying to find in them a breath and a long, long kiss of
lovers.

My husband, picking himself up, gazed at me. He understood, and
falling at my feet, said:

"Oh! forgive me, my darling, I suspected you, and I killed this girl's
lover. It was my keeper that deceived me."

But I was watching the strange kisses of that dead man and that living
woman, and her sobs and her writhings of sorrowing love--

And at that moment I understood that I might be unfaithful to my
husband.