“You will do it, will you not?”
“You wish me to?”
“I implore you.”
“Order or entreaty, Charles, your will shall be done.”
The young man held the girl, who seemed on the verge of fainting, in his left arm, and approached his mouth to hers. But, just as their lips were about to touch, an owl’s cry was heard, so close to the window that Amélie started and Charles raised his head. The cry was repeated a second time, and then a third.
“Ah!” murmured Amélie, “do you hear that bird of ill-omen? We are doomed, my friend.”
But Charles shook his head.
“That is not an owl, Amélie,” he said; “it is the call of our companions. Put out the light.”
Amélie blew it out while her lover opened the window.
“Even here,” she murmured; “they seek you even here!”