d yet,
if any one had told me yesterday that I loved you, I might have laughed
at it. This is what is so terrible. It has been like a treason. I did
not take heed. I went to the church, I saw you, I thought everybody
there was like myself. I do not reproach you; you did nothing to make me
love you; you did nothing but look at me; it is not your fault if you
look at people; and yet that made me love you so much. I did not even
suspect it. When you took up the book it was a flood of light; when
others took it, it was but a book. You raised your eyes sometimes; you
spoke of archangels; oh! you were my archangel. What you said penetrated
my thoughts at once. Before then, I know not even whether I believed in
God. Since I have known you, I have learnt to pray. I used to say to
Douce, dress me quickly, lest I should be late at the service; and I
hastened to the church. Such it was with me to love some one. I did not
know the cause. I said to myself, how devout I am becoming. It is from
you that I have learnt that I do not go to church for God's service. It
is true; I went for your sake. You spoke so well, and when you raised
your arms to heaven, you seemed to hold my heart within your two white
hands. I was foolish; but I did not know it. Shall I tell you your
fault? It was your coming to me in the garden; it was your speaking to
me. If you had said nothing, I should have known nothing. If you had
gone, I should, perhaps, have been sad, but now I should die. Since I
know that I love you, you cannot leave me. Of what are you thinking? You
do not seem to listen to me."

Caudray replied:

"You heard what was said last night?"

"Ah, me!"

"What can I do against that?"

They were silent for a moment. Caudray continued:

"There is but one duty left to me. It is to depart."

"And mine to die. Oh! how I wish there was no sea, but only sky. It
seems to me as if that would settle all, and that our departure would be
the same. It was wrong to speak to me; why did you speak to me? Do not
go. What will become of me? I tell you I shall die. You will be far off
when I shall be in my grave. Oh! my heart will break. I am very
wretched; yet my uncle is not unkind."

It was the first time in her life that Deruchette had ever said "my
uncle." Until then she had always said "my father."

Caudray stepped back, and made a sign to the boatman. Deruchette heard
the sound of the boat-hook among the shingle, and the step of the man on
the g