There was a confession as well as a depth of sorrow in these words; he raised his head, grasped her hand, and carried it to his lips.
'Farewell!' he said--'farewell! God be with you, Jeanné!'
She left her hand in his, and whispered, 'Farewell, until we meet again!'
'I may come, then!' he exclaimed joyfully.
'Since you threaten to throw your life away. But go now--leave me. Let me beg this of you.'
Krusé knelt before her, whilst he kissed her hand and said:
'Put up a prayer for me, then I shall, perhaps, come back, and God may have compassion upon us both.'
He sprang up and left her; a minute or two after, the clatter of his horse's hoofs was heard upon the other side of the garden fence.
Jeanné stood and listened.
At that moment Jeanné felt her hand seized, and the following words were uttered in a low, sad, scarcely audible tone: