I do not know whether she recognized me; I had been there some time when I heard her sweet, fresh voice singing the refrain of a romance, and at the same instant a flower fell on my shoulder.  It was a rose she had worn that evening on her bosom; I picked it up and pressed it to my lips.

“Who is there at this hour?  Is it you?”

She called me by name.  The gate leading into the garden was open; I arose without replying and entered it, I stopped before a plot of grass in the centre of the garden; I was walking like a somnambulist, without knowing what I was doing.

Suddenly I saw her at the door opening into the garden; she seemed to be undecided and looked attentively at the rays of the moon.  She made a few steps toward me and I advanced to meet her.  I could not speak, I fell on my knees before her and seized her hand.

“Listen to me,” she said; “I know all; but if it has come to that, Octave, you must go away.  You come here every day and you are always welcome, are you not?  Is not that enough?  What more can I do for you?  My friendship you have won; I wish you had been able to keep yours a little longer.”

When Madame Pierson had spoken these words she waited in silence as though expecting a reply.  As I remained overwhelmed with sadness, she gently withdrew her hand, stepped back, waited a moment longer and then reentered the house.

I remained kneeling on the grass.  I had been expecting what she said; my resolution was soon taken, and I decided to go away.  I arose, my heart bleeding but firm.  I looked at the house, at her window; I opened the garden-gate and placed my lips on the lock as I passed out.

When I reached home I told Larive to make what preparations were necessary, as I would set out in the morning.  The poor fellow was astonished, but I made him a sign to obey and ask no questions.  He brought a large trunk and busied himself with preparations for departure.

It was five o’clock in the morning and day was beginning to break when I asked myself where I was going.  At that thought, which had not occurred to me before, I experienced a profound feeling of discouragement.  I cast my eyes over the country, scanning the horizon.  A sense of weakness took possession of me; I was exhausted with fatigue.  I sat down in a chair and my ideas became confused; I bore my hand to my forehead and found it bathed in sweat.  A violent fever made my limbs tremble; I could hardly reach my, bed with Larive’s assistance.  My thoughts were so confused that I had no recollection of what had happened.  The day passed; toward evening I heard the sound of instruments.  It was the Sunday dance, and I asked Larive to go and see if Madame Pierson was there.  He did not find her; I sent him to her house.  The blinds were closed, and a servant informed him that Madame Pierson and her aunt had gone to spend some days with a relative who lived at N------, a small town some distance north.  He handed me a letter that had been given him.  It was couched in the following terms: