She chose the one on the right, but, after running fifty yards, went back to the middle one and then to the one on the left. After that, she roamed at random, beating the copses, hunting on the grass for the marks of carriage-wheels, flinging herself among the ferns, listening and looking with all her nerves on edge....
A shot ... and a second, at almost the same moment ... close by....
She gave a scream and fell to the ground.
A few minutes passed. As though in a dream, she saw, through the branches, the two carriages driving by. Then voices sounded:
“I assure you, doctor, I am not mistaken. It was a woman screaming.”
She had not the strength to raise her eyelids or speak; but she felt that two men were coming towards her. One of them bent over her and took her hand:
“It’s nothing. She has only fainted.”
“In that case, doctor, don’t wait,” said the other voice. “I will see her home.”
The mist in which she was struggling lifted slowly. She perceived the smell of the earth on which she lay. She made an effort to throw off the feeling of sleep that numbed her and she opened her eyes. Guillaume was standing before her.
“You, you?” she whispered. “Oh, how glad I am! And M. Simare?”