man, whom neither Jeanne nor Micheline recognized, was advancing. When
about two yards distant from the group he slowly raised his hat.

Seeing the constrained and astonished manner of the young girls, a sad
smile played on his lips, then he said, softly:

"Am I then so changed that I must tell you my name?"

At these words Micheline jumped up, she became as white as her collar,
and trembling, with sobs rising to her lips, stood silent and petrified
before Pierre. She could not speak, but her eyes were eagerly fixed on
the young man. It was he, the companion of her youth, so changed that
she had not recognized him; worn by hard work, perhaps by anxieties,
bronzed--and with his face hidden by a black beard which gave him a manly
and energetic appearance. It was certainly he, with a thin red ribbon at
his button-hole, which he had not when he went away, and which showed the
importance of the works he had executed and of great perils he had faced.
Pierre, trembling and motionless, was silent; the sound of his voice
choked with emotion had frightened him. He had expected a cold
reception, but this scared look, which resembled terror, was beyond all
he had pictured. Serge wondered and watched.

Jeanne broke the icy silence. She went up to Pierre, and presented her
forehead.

"Well," she said, "don't you kiss your friends?"

She smiled affectionately on him. Two grateful tears sparkled in the
young man's eyes, and fell on Mademoiselle de Cernay's hair. Micheline,
led away by the example and without quite knowing what she was doing,