"Gabrielle! Gabrielle!"
She stopped; the quick panting of her breath reached his ears.
"It is I--Boris! I have come back to you, Gabrielle--come back, after
all these years! My heart! Why do you look at me like that? No word of
welcome, Gabrielle? Ah! you thought that I was dead? My selfishness has
made me too abrupt." Stefanovitch had caught the white hands and was
drawing her towards him.
"Yes, I--I--thought that you were--dead," answered Gabrielle. The sound
of his voice, its infinite tenderness, the joy that glowed in his eyes,
moved her so that she broke out into sobs--sobs that startled him.
"My love! my dear love! I have frightened you. Oh, you must not cry like
that. Look at me, Gabrielle! How I have lived for you! Not one hour in
which I have not thought of you. And this, God's mercy, is greater than
His trial." Stefanovitch raised the drooping head and covered her face
with his passionate kisses. "My love! My love!" he said.
And Gabrielle at that moment seemed to wake from a dream. Here was the
heart that she could rest upon. What other thoughts were those which she
had permitted to linger for awhile? They were fading already, were
passing with her tears.
[Illustration: "SHE PUT HER ARMS ABOUT HIS NECK."]
She put her arms about his neck; and so they were silent for a time,
standing motionless beneath the trees. Stefanovitch said at last:--
"Who told you that I was dead, little one? Who caused you such pain?"
"It is so terrible a story. I heard that you escaped--"
"And so I did."
"That in the forest you were caught by a regiment of Cossacks, and
that--"
Stefanovitch interrupted her. "What!" he cried out, "you heard of that?
Yes, it was true; but, Gabrielle, at a moment like this, when my cup is
overflowing, I can forgive even Ivan Vassilitch--"
Gabrielle sprang from him as if he had struck her. In an instant she saw
the whole truth. The cry she would have uttered died on her parted lips.
She remained mute, bewildered, paralyzed with astonishment.
"Ah, you know the man," said Stefanovitch. "I had forgotten that. Well,
let him pass, Gabrielle. Come, you are shivering. It is so cold out
here. May I come indoors for an hour?"
* * * * *
The ex-captain of Cossacks closed the gate as he left the avenue. He had
heard every word. And he had let them go. Why, he might have pistolled
Stefanovitch as he stood there!
He remained in the snow-covered road, staring at the darkened fields,
pallid with grief and rage.
Suddenly he snatched the Derringer from his pocket. The barrel into
which he looked was but a tiny orifice, yet wide and deep as the pit of
death. He lifted his arm. A pressure of the finger, that was all that
was needed--
"Bah! for a woman? She is not worth it!"
Vassilitch fired into the air. The report echoed and re-echoed--a note
of thunder in the quiet night!
_Eccentricities of Equilibrium._