“A woman!”
I shuddered from head to foot; I hardly dared to lower my eyes to examine the woman who lay at our feet.
“She seems to be dead!” cried Caroline.
“Dead! Ah! if it were——”
I fell on my knees, I raised the unfortunate creature’s head, I put aside the leaves that shut out what light there was in the sky. A low groan escaped from my breast. I was utterly overwhelmed. It was Eugénie, it was my wife, who lay inanimate before me.
Caroline had heard me murmur Eugénie’s name, and she too recognized the unhappy woman; thereupon she fell on her knees beside her and abandoned herself to despair, for she guessed that it was she who had caused her death. For my part, I could neither speak nor act. I was dumb, turned to stone, before that shocking spectacle. Suddenly Caroline cried:
“Ah! her heart is still beating! She is not dead!”
Those words revived me. I stooped and took Eugénie in my arms, while Caroline held the branches aside. But where could I find help so late? Ernest’s garden was the nearest place. I went to the little gate; it was open and we entered. There was a light in the summer-house, the door of which also was open. It was plain that she had gone out in haste. We went inside and I laid Eugénie on the bed. Caroline looked about and brought me water and salts; then she ran to the house, to summon help.
I was left alone with Eugénie; I poured water on her forehead and temples, while I tried to warm her ice-cold hands with mine. At last she moved; she opened her eyes, recognized me, and, taking my hand, put it to her mouth, murmuring:
“Ah! I am happy once more! You are with me!”