He moved quickly now, still keeping in the shadows, until he reached the side of the ship furthest away from the ladder by which he had descended, and then stepped out across the deck. He passed little knots of people, and voices in strange tongues that he had never heard before fell upon his ears; but he gave them no heed--there was only that figure, alone, apart, toward which he was hurrying. And now--yes--he was sure! Her back was turned, and, as before, she was leaning ever the ship's side, but--yes--yes--it was Marie-Louise!
He halted a yard away from her, trembling with an emotion that brought a strange weakness to his limbs, and reached out his arms--her name quivering, low and passionate, his soul in his voice, upon his lips.
She turned sharply, in a frightened, startled way, and for a moment stared at him; and then, even in the darkness, he could see her face grow deathly white, while her hand groped blindly out behind her for support.
"Dead!" she whispered. "I was praying to the _bon Dieu_ for you, Jean. And now you are dead, and you have come to me."
"Ay!" he cried blunderingly in his joy. "Ay, that is true, Marie-Louise! Jean Laparde is dead!"
She moaned a little, and shrank back, and pressed her hands to her face.
"Dead!" she whispered again. "You are dead, Jean, and you have come to me."
She was swaying as he caught her in his arms. Fool, accursed fool, that he had not understood!
"No, no; Marie-Louise, _chérie, ma bien-aimée_!" he said tenderly. "See, are my arms not real about you? See, it is I, it is really I! It is not death, it is love that has brought me! See, Marie-Louise, lie very still for a little while in my arms, and you will not be any more afraid."
It seemed as though for a space she were in a faint, so white her face was, so quiet she lay; and then her hand felt out and touched his shoulder, and his face, and his hair in a wondering, hesitant, incredulous way.
"You--you are like Jean as he used to be before he went away to the _grand monde_."
He bent his head, and laid his cheek against her cheek.
"Yes, Marie-Louise," he said softly. "And now I shall always be that Jean. Try very hard now to understand, little one! See, I am back again--for always--for always--and I will never go away from you any more. Don't you see, _petite_, that it is really Jean?"