me. I had no doubt about it myself and I rejoiced, not that he did not
deceive me--he _could not_ deceive--but that he did not try to
delude himself. For myself I asked for nothing, and would have followed
where and how he chose. 'You shall be my wife,' he repeated to me. 'I am
not Ivanhoe; I know that happiness is not with Lady Rowena.'

Michel soon regained his health. I could not continue going to see him,
but everything was decided between us. I was already entirely absorbed
in the future; I saw nothing of what was passing around me, as though I
were floating on a glorious, calm, but rushing river, hidden in mist.
But we were watched, we were being spied upon. Once or twice I noticed
my stepfather's malignant eyes, and heard his loathsome laugh.... But
that laugh, those eyes as it were emerged for an instant from the
mist... I shuddered, but forgot it directly, and surrendered myself
again to the glorious, swift river...

On the day before the departure of Michel--we had planned together that
he was to turn back secretly on the way and fetch me--I received from
him through his trusted valet a note, in which he asked me to meet him
at half-past nine in the summer billiard-room, a large, low-pitched
room, built on to the big house in the garden. He wrote to me that he
absolutely must speak with me and arrange things. I had twice already
met Michel in the billiard-room... I had the key of the outer door. As
soon as it struck half-past nine I threw a warm wrap over my shoulders,
stepped quietly out of the lodge, and made my way successfully over the
crackling snow to the billiard-room. The moon, wrapped in vapour, stood
a dim blur just over the ridge of the roof, and the wind whistled
shrilly round the corner of the wall. A shiver passed over me, but I put
the key into the lock, went into the room, closed the door behind me,
turned round... A dark figure became visible against one of the walls,