Ivas remained with the Italians. The Dane and the Tsigane went away together.
"I perceive," said Lucie to her cavalier, "that this unexpected meeting betokens a mysterious romance. Did you see how he looked at her? Did you hear the cry she gave? The husband and the lover, that is certain. How I wish I knew their history! Will he consent to tell us? Provided he comes, I know well how to lead him on."
"Why should their story interest us?"
"Because it will be more curious than the books you read. I love reality better than fiction."
CHAPTER V.
[A SIMPLE HISTORY OF LOVE.]
Ivas, abandoned, seated himself alone on a bench, his head bowed. The sight of the men and women around him who had leisure to occupy themselves with sentiments of love, and their conversation, made a sad impression.
Hunger, misery, political passions, consumed him. He thought of his country and its future. He sought a remedy for his unhappiness and the sorrows of his countrymen. What mattered to him the sweet words of women, their tender glances, their whispered promises; women for him did not exist before the vision of his misery and his despair. An inexpressible sadness tortured him. Was he not going to risk his life in order to breathe his native air?
His melancholy thoughts were rocked by the sea breeze when some one clapped him on the shoulder. It was Jacob.
"Let us return," said he with vivacity.