“Pierre went on pretending to read, but in reality listening with acute tension of ear to every little sound. His perceptions became so sensitive in this respect that he was incapable¹ of measuring time, every moment had seemed so full of noises, from the beating of his heart up to the roll of the heavy carts in the distance. He wondered whether Virginie would have reached the place of rendezvous², and yet he was unable to compute³ the passage of minutes. His mother slept soundly: that was well. By this time Virginie must have met the ‘faithful cousin:’ if, indeed, Morin had not made his appearance.

“At length, he felt as if he could no longer sit still, awaiting the issue, but must run out and see what course events had taken. In vain his mother, half-rousing herself, called after him to ask whither he was going: he was already out of hearing before she had ended her sentence, and he ran on until stopped by the sight of{172} Mademoiselle Cannes walking along at so swift a pace that it was almost a run; while at her side, resolutely⁵ keeping by her, Morin was striding abreast⁶. Pierre had just turned the corner of the street, when he came upon them. Virginie would have passed him without recognising him, she was in such passionate⁷ agitation⁸, but for Morin’s gesture, by which he would fain have kept Pierre from interrupting them. Then, when Virginie saw the lad, she caught at his arm, and thanked God, as if in that boy of twelve or fourteen she held a protector. Pierre felt her tremble from head to foot, and was afraid lest she would fall, there where she stood, in the hard rough street.

“‘Begone, Pierre!’ said Morin.

“‘I cannot,’ replied Pierre, who indeed was held firmly by Virginie. ‘Besides, I won’t,’ he added. ‘Who has been frightening Mademoiselle in this way?’ asked he, very much inclined to brave his cousin at all hazards.

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