One by one, as the hour was approaching when she expected to see Marius, the hesitations of the young girl vanished like smoke.  She feared but one thing,—­that he would not come, or that he may already have come and left, without succeeding in seeing her.

Already did the objects become less distinct; and the gas was being lit in the back-shops, when she recognized him on the other side of the street.  He looked up as he went by; and, without stopping, he addressed her a rapid gesture, which she alone could understand, and which meant, “Come, I beseech you!”

Her heart beating loud enough to be heard, Mlle. Gilberte ran down the stairs.  But it was only when she found herself in the street that she could appreciate the magnitude of the risk she was running.  Concierges and shopkeepers were all sitting in front of their doors, taking the fresh air.  All knew her.  Would they not be surprised to see her out alone at such an hour?  Twenty steps in front of her she could see Marius.  But he had understood the danger; for, instead of turning the corner of the Rue des Minimes, he followed the Rue St. Gilles straight, and only stopped on the other side of the Boulevard.

Then only did Mlle. Gilberte join him; and she could not withhold an exclamation, when she saw that he was as pale as death, and scarcely able to stand and to walk.

“How imprudent of you to have returned so soon!” she said.

A little blood came to M. de Tregars’ cheeks.  His face brightened up, and, in a voice quivering with suppressed passion,

“It would have been more imprudent still to stay away,” he uttered.  “Far from you, I felt myself dying.”

They were both leaning against the door of a closed shop; and they were as alone in the midst of the throng that circulated on the Boulevards, busy looking at the fearful wrecks of the Commune.

“And besides,” added Marius, “have I, then, a minute to lose?  I asked you for three years.  Fifteen months have gone, and I am no better off than on the first day.  When this accursed war broke out, all my arrangements were made.  I was certain to rapidly accumulate a sufficient fortune to enable me to ask for your hand without being refused.  Whereas now—­”

“Well?”

“Now every thing is changed.  The future is so uncertain, that no one wishes to venture their capital.  Marcolet himself, who certainly does not lack boldness, and who believes firmly in the success of our enterprise, was telling me yesterday, ’There is nothing to be done just now:  we must wait.’”

There was in his voice such an intensity of grief, that the girl felt the tears coming to her eyes.

“We will wait then,” she said, attempting to smile.

But M. de Tregars shook his head.

“Is it possible?” he said.  “Do you, then, think that I do not know what a life you lead?”

Mlle. Gilberte looked up.