A. DE VIGNY (Eloa).
They were standing up under the dark arbour. One close to the other, excited, panting: they could scarce get their breath again. Does their heart beat so hard because there is someone in the path? Silence!
The cricket, just by their side, sends forth from under the grass his soft monotonous cry, and down there in the neighbouring ditch the toad lifts his harsh voice. Silence!
A noise in the road, faint at first as the murmur of the wind, increases. It comes near. It is the cautious hesitating step of someone listening. It comes nearer and stops. Silence! The philosopher cricket continues his song, the amorous toad his poem.
Behind the branches of honeysuckle they watch attentively, and can see without being seen. A shadow passes slowly by, with its head turned towards the dark arbour. Suzanne made a movement of surprise;—Your servant, she said.
—Silence, murmured Marcel; and he seizes a hand which he keeps within his own.
Veronica slowly walked on.
When she reached the gate, she pushed it as if to assure herself if it was open.
—Well, there is an impertinence, said Suzanne. Who can have made her suspect that you were here?
Marcel, for reply, pressed the hand which he was holding.