At last, at the end of the corridor, he heard the rustling of a dress
against the wall.
"It is she," he murmured.
Footsteps approached; the heavy bolts were drawn back, the door opened,
and Marie-Anne entered, accompanied by Corporal Bavois.
"Monsieur de Courtornieu promised me that we should be left alone!"
exclaimed Chanlouineau.
"Therefore, I go at once," replied the old soldier. "But I have orders
to return for mademoiselle in half an hour."
When the door closed behind the worthy corporal, Chanlouineau took
Marie-Anne's hand and drew her to the tiny grafted window.
"Thank you for coming," said he, "thank you. I can see you and speak to
you once more. Now that my hours are numbered, I may reveal the secret
of my soul and of my life. Now, I can venture to tell you how ardently I
have loved you--how much I still love you."
Involuntarily Marie-Anne drew away her hand and stepped back.
This outburst of passion, at such a moment, seemed at once unspeakably
sad and frightful.
"Have I, then, offended you?" said Chanlouineau, sadly.
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