Though he had seen Mademoiselle Rivière but once, and then for a moment only: though this was his first time of conversing with her, Idris intuitively felt that she was the one woman in the world for him: and that though happiness might be possible apart from her, such happiness would be but the shadow of that derivable from her undivided love.
Fortune was certainly favouring him. He would have given half his wealth to any one who could have brought about such a situation as the present, and lo! the event had happened naturally, of itself, and without any premeditation on his part. It was wonderful! Many hours might pass ere he and Mademoiselle Rivière could quit the spot where they now were. He determined to make good use of this golden opportunity. He would exert all his powers to gain a place, if not in her affection, at least in her friendship, so that her feeling on parting from him should contain something of regret.
"How can I thank you?" she repeated.
"By not thanking me. How did the accident happen?"
"My hat was the cause of it all. I was standing on the edge of the cliff when the wind carried it off to the sands below. Not wishing to return home bare-headed, I clambered down 'The Stairs of David' after it. The ladder gave way, and I fell. A sudden stop, and I remember no more."
"It was well the ground at the foot of the cliff was soft sand," said Idris.
"It was well, as you say," replied Mademoiselle Rivière with a shiver. "I shall never forget the sensation of falling through the air."
"Does your ankle still pain you?" Idris asked, observing that she shrank from placing her left foot on the ground.
"A little," she smiled.