“No,” answered he, “keep it; you still distrust me, but let us lose no time.”
CHAPTER XLII.
Again we started. Rask, who, during our conversation, had shown frequent signs of impatience to renew his journey, bounded joyously before us. We plunged into a virgin forest, and after half an hour’s walking we came out on a grassy opening in the wood. On one side was a waterfall dashing over rugged rocks, whilst the primeval trees of the forest surrounded it on all sides. Amongst the rocks was a cave, the grey face of which was shrouded by a mass of climbing plants. Rask ran towards it barking, but at a sign from Pierrot he became silent, and the latter taking me by the hand led me without a word to the entrance of the cave.
A woman with her back towards the light was seated on a mat: at the sound of our steps she turned——my friends——it was Marie! She wore the same white dress that she had done on the day of our marriage, and the wreath of orange blossoms was still on her head. She recognized me in a moment, and with a cry of joy threw herself into my arms. I was speechless with surprise and emotion. At her cry an old woman carrying a child in her arms hurried from an inner chamber formed in the depth of the cave, she was Marie’s nurse, and she carried my uncle’s youngest child.
Pierrot hastened to bring some water from the neighbouring spring, and threw a few drops in Marie’s face, who was overcome by emotion; she speedily recovered, and opening her eyes, exclaimed—
“Leopold, my Leopold!”
“Marie,” cried I, and my words were stifled in a kiss.
“Not before me, for pity’s sake,” cried a voice, in accents of agony.
We looked round; it came from Pierrot. The sight of our endearments appeared to inflict terrible torture on him, his bosom heaved, a cold perspiration bedewed his forehead, and every limb quivered. Suddenly he hid his face in his hands, and fled from the grotto repeating in tones of anguish—
“Not before me! not before me!”