Calyste was leaning
forward with an expression of savage curiosity; he saw the position in
which Beatrix lay, and he shuddered. Her lips moved,--she seemed to be
praying; in fact, she thought she was about to die, for she felt the
bush beginning to give way. With the agility which danger gives to
youth, Calyste slid down to the ledge below the bush, where he was
able to grasp the marquise and hold her, although at the risk of their
both sliding down into the sea. As he held her, he saw that she had
fainted; but in that aerial spot he could fancy her all his, and his
first emotion was that of pleasure.
"Open your eyes," he said, "and forgive me; we will die together."
"Die?" she said, opening her eyes and unclosing her pallid lips.
Calyste welcomed that word with a kiss, and felt the marquise tremble
under it convulsively, with passionate joy. At that instant Gasselin's
hob-nailed shoes sounded on the rock above them. The old Breton was
followed by Camille, and together they sought for some means of saving
the lovers.
"There's but one way, mademoiselle," said Gasselin.
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