"Martin," said he, in a low voice to his squire, "you see what a marvellous chance is within my grasp. I must and will take advantage of it, and speak—alas! perhaps for the last time—to Madame Diane. Do you meanwhile see that no one interrupts us, and keep watch a little apart, remaining nevertheless within call. Go, my faithful fellow; go."
"But, Monseigneur," Martin began to object, "are you not afraid that Madame la Supérieure—"
"She is in another room probably," said Gabriel. "At all events, I must not hesitate, in view of the necessity which may hereafter separate us forever."
Martin seemed to yield, and moved away, swearing to himself.
Gabriel drew a little nearer Diane; and restraining his voice so as to arouse the attention of no one else, he called her name softly,—
"Diane! Diane!"
Diane was startled; and her eyes, which had hardly got used to the darkness, did not detect Gabriel at first.
"Did some one call me?" she said. "Who is it?"
"I," Gabriel replied, as if Medea's monosyllable were enough to reveal his identity to her.
In good sooth it was; for Diane, without pursuing her inquiries any further, rejoined in a voice trembling with feeling and surprise:—