ds; recalling in imagination the past scenes which they
suggested, the time of their childhood, when, married so young, they
were as yet only playmates, prefacing the graver duties of life by
innocent pleasures; then of the love which grew with their increasing
age; then of how this love became altered, changing on her side into
passion, on his into indifference. She tried to recollect him as he had
been on the eve of his departure, young and handsome, carrying his head
high, coming home from a fatiguing hunt and sitting by his son's cradle;
and then also she remembered bitterly the jealous suspicions she had
conceived, the anger with which she had allowed them to escape her,
the consequent quarrel, followed by the disappearance of her offended
husband, and the eight succeeding years of solitude and mourning. She
wept over his desertion; over the desolation of her life, seeing around
her only indifferent or selfish people, and caring only to live for her
child's sake, who gave her at least a shadowy reflection of the husband
she had lost. "Lost--yes, lost for ever!" she said to herself, sighing,
and looking again at the fields whence she had so often seen him coming
at this same twilight hour, returning to his home for the evening meal.
She cast a wandering eye on the distant hills, which showed a black
outline against a yet fiery western sky, then let it fall on a little
grove of olive trees planted on the farther side of the brook which
skirted her dwelling. Everything was calm; approaching night brought
silence along with darkness: it was exactly what she saw every evening,
but to leave which required always an effort.

She rose to re-enter the house, when her attention was caught by a
movement amongst the trees. For a moment she thought she was mistaken,
but the branches again rustled, then parted asunder, and the form of a
man appeared on the other side of the brook. Terrified, Bertrande tried
to scream, but not a sound escaped her lips; her voice seemed paralyzed
by terror, as in an evil dream. And she almost thought it was a dream,
for notwithstanding the dark shadows cast around this indistinct
semblance, she seemed to recognise features once dear to her. Had her
bitter reveries ended by making her the victim of a hallucination? She
thought her brain was giving way, and sank on her knees to pray for
help. But the figure remained; it stood motionless, with folded arms,
silently gazing at her! Then she thought of w