M. STEPHEN ASSERTS HIMSELF. 279 



I had no asylum for tke night; no prospect of food on the 

 morrow; but that was a matter of no importance then. The 

 play began early that day, and I wished to have time to eat 

 a morsel. The last time I had been to the theatre without 

 dining ; I had glanced at myself in a miror, and found that 

 I looked pale, thin and ugly. I went to the Orchard, where 

 I dined upon two sous' worth of bread and two sous' worth of 

 cheese, then went to the theatre, where I passed my evening 

 delightfully. By a singular chance, in the piece played that 

 night the two lovers bore the same names as myself and 



Magdeleine ; our eyes were constantly fixed upon each 



other, and we applied all the tender things said upon the 

 stage to ourselves. 



Upon going out, after having given and received a letter, 

 I escorted them home, at my usual respectful distance. 



Then, and not till then, as I mechanically took the road to 

 Levasseur's, I recollected all that had passed, and it came 

 sharply and bitterly to my mind that I had neither home nor 

 bed, and that I must pass the night beneath the canopy of 

 heaven. 



In front of M. Muller's house there was a little meadow, 

 from which I could perceive the window of Magdeleine's 

 chamber. I soon saw a light in it, and I fancied she must 

 be reading my letter; whilst I, on my part, for want of light, 

 could only cover hers with tender kisses. Then the light was 

 extinguished. 



I then pictured to myself Magdeleine sleeping; I thought 

 I could see her beautiful long eyelashes drooping over her 

 cheeks ; I dare not repeat the smiling pictures that passed 

 before my mind ; I bade her good night twenty times. Good 

 night, Magdeleine; good night, my beloved; good night, my 

 wife ! my adored wife, good night ! 



I laid down upon the grass and went to sleep, regretting 

 only one thing: that I had not read her dear letter, which I 

 held clasped tightly in my hand. 



I was awakened some time before daybreak, by the cool- 

 ness of the morning air; I was fatigued, depressed, chiUed; 

 I roused myself, put myself a little to rights, day dawned, 

 and I read her letter, a letter full of tender promises, magic 

 words. I felt rested, refreshed, and in spirits. 



