At last they reached the path leading down into the valley; they halted and left their horses at the usual place, then walked toward the cottage. Alfred took Edouard’s arm; the latter’s excitement doubled as they approached Isaure’s abode.
"She is at home!" cried Edouard, as they perceived a light in the window of the first floor. "Ah! my friend, let us stop a moment; my heart is beating so violently. She is in her room! I was so afraid that I should not see her again; I was in despair lest we should not arrive soon enough. Ah! you were right, Alfred; when one is in trouble, one adds to it by one’s imagination! But her window is closed; I cannot see her as I could last night. I would like to see her without her knowing that I am here!"
"As you mean to speak to her for the last time, of course she must know that you are here. Shall we not knock? Or do you prefer to call her?"
"I don’t know—wait a moment; suppose there was someone with her! Do you see any light in the White House?"
"No."
"How can we make sure that she is alone? Suppose that your father were there? Let us wait; perhaps she will open her window, or will come out to go to the White House."
The young men waited several minutes; Edouard kept his eyes fixed on the window in which the light shone.
"It is very strange," he said at last; "I can see no shadow through the curtains, the light does not move at all, and there is not the slightest sound to indicate that she is there. And yet, in this lonely valley, the least movement can easily be heard. Alfred, there is something absolutely terrifying in this stillness."
"More of your black ideas! For heaven’s sake, what do you suppose has happened to her? Are thieves or brigands ever seen in this region?"
"Come, let us go near the house, perhaps we shall hear something."