She leaned lightly on his arm, and took a few steps with him toward the forest.
“Do you think they are saved?” she asked.
“I hope so,” he replied. “The face of Doctor Durocher is more cheerful.”
Both of them stumbled over a root, and laughed like two children for several minutes.
“We shall soon be in the woods,” said Madame de Tecle, “and I declare I can go no farther: good or bad, I choose this spot.”
They were still quite close to the hut, but the branches of the old trees which had been spared by the axe spread like a sombre dome over their heads. Near by was a large rock, slightly covered with moss, and a number of old trunks of trees, on which Madame de Tecle took her seat.
“Nothing could be better,” said Camors, gayly. “I must collect my materials.”
A moment after he reappeared, bringing in his arms brushwood, and also a travelling-rug which his servant had brought him.
He got on his knees in front of the rock, prepared the fagots, and lighted them with a match. When the flame began to flicker on the rustic hearth Madame de Tecle trembled with joy, and held out both hands to the blaze.
“Ah! how nice that is!” she said; “and then it is so amusing; one would say we had been shipwrecked.
“Now, Monsieur, if you would be perfect go and see what Durocher reports.”
He ran to the hut. When he returned he could not avoid stopping half way to admire the elegant and simple silhouette of the young woman, defined sharply against the blackness of the wood, her fine countenance slightly illuminated by the firelight. The moment she saw him:
“Oh! what happiness, Monsieur!” She pressed his hand.
He sat down on a rock contiguous to hers, and replied to her eager questions. He repeated, in detail, his conversation with the doctor, and explained at length the properties of belladonna. She listened at first with interest, but little by little, with her head wrapped in her veil and resting on the boughs interlaced behind her, she seemed to be uncomfortably resting from fatigue.
“You are likely to fall asleep there,” he said, laughing.
“Perhaps!” she murmured--smiled, and went to sleep.
Her sleep resembled death, it was so profound, and so calm was the beating of her heart, so light her breathing.