She listened and heard her name a second time, uttered in a tone of agony she could not understand. She quivered, sprang to her feet, and ran rapidly down the stairs.
“What is it?” cried Amélie, seizing the young man’s hand.
“Listen, listen!” said he.
Amélie strained her ears to catch the sound which seemed to her like musketry. It came from the direction of Ceyzeriat.
“Oh!” cried Morgan, “I was right in doubting my happiness to the last. My friends are attacked. Adieu, Amélie, adieu!”
“Adieu!” cried Amélie, turning pale. “What, will you leave me?”
The sound of the firing grew more distinct.
“Don’t you hear them? They are fighting, and I am not there to fight with them.”
Daughter and sister of a soldier, Amélie understood him and she made no resistance.
“Go!” she said, letting her hands drop beside her. “You were right, we are lost.”