It was
plain to Mathieu that a terrible combat was going on within them. They
stamped about, moved hither and thither in a feverish way, then halted
once more to resume their conversation in a whisper. At one moment the
young man felt intensely relieved, for, turning into the Rue La Boetie,
they walked on slowly, as if downcast and resigned, in the direction of
Grenelle. But all at once they halted once more and exchanged a few
words; and then Mathieu's heart contracted as he saw them retrace their
steps along the Rue La Boetie and follow the Rue de la Pepiniere as far
as the Rue du Rocher. He readily divined whither they were going, but
some irresistible force impelled him to follow them; and before long,
from an open doorway, in which he prudently concealed himself, he saw
them look round to ascertain whether they were observed, and then slink,
first the wife and afterwards the husband, into the dark passage of La
Rouche's house. For a moment Mathieu lingered in his hiding-place,
quivering, full of dread and horror; and when at last he turned his steps
homeward it was with a heavy heart indeed.
The weeks went by, the winter ran its course, and March had come round,
when the memory of all that the young fellow had heard and seen that
day--things which he had vainly striven to forget--was revived in the
most startling fashion.
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