en move the
heavy leaden sash in the rusty ironwork. Her efforts made me laugh. She
clasped her hands in terror, and remained motionless. Then all at once
the expression of her face changed. She seemed to have resolved how to
act, and came toward me smiling and with outstretched hand. So beautiful
was she thus that a mist came over my eyes and for a moment I saw her
not.

Ah, gentlemen, forgive my childishness. I must tell you how she was
dressed. After that weird night she never wore that costume again, and
yet I can remember it so exactly. It is a long, long time ago. But were
I to live as long as I have already lived again, I should not forget
a single detail, so much was I struck by it amid the tumult that
was raging within me and without; amid the din of shots striking
the ramparts, the lightning flashes ripping the sky, and the violent
palpitations which sent my blood surging from my heart to my brain, and
from my head to my breast.

Oh, how lovely she was! It seems as if her shade were even now
passing before my eyes. Yes; I fancy I see her in the same dress, the
riding-habit which used to be worn in those days. The skirt of it was of
cloth and very full; round the waist was a red sash, while a waistcoat
of pearl-gray satin, fastened with buttons, fitted closely to the
figure; over this was a hunting-jacket, trimmed with lace, short and
open in front; the hat, of gray felt, with a broad brim turned up in
front, was crowned with half a dozen red feathers. The hair, which was
not powdered, was drawn back from the face and fell down in two long
plaits, like those of the Bernese women. Edmee's were so long that they
almost reached the ground.

Her garb, to me so strangely fascinating, her youth and beauty, and the
favour with which she now seemed to regard my pretensions, combined to
make me mad with love and joy. I could imagine nothing more beautiful
than a lovely woman yielding without coarse words, and without tears of
shame. My first impulse was to take her in my arms; but, as if overcome
by that irresistible longing to worship which characterizes a first
love, even with the grossest of beings, I fell down before her and
pressed her knees to my breast; and yet, on my own supposition, it was
to a shameless wanton that this homage was paid. I was none the less
nigh to swooning from bliss.

She took my head between her two beautiful hands, and exclaimed:

"Ah, I was right! I knew quite well that you were not