She remained quietly waiting in her
chamber. Then, as the leaves even scarcely stirred, but seemed to sleep,
she ventured out, and began to question the dark shadows as before.
From whence would the miracle come? Without doubt, in the Bishop's
garden would be seen a flaming hand, which would beckon to her to
approach.
Or, perhaps, the sign would appear in the Cathedral, the great organs of
which would peal forth, and would call her to the altar.
Nothing would have surprised her: neither the doves of the "Golden
Legend" bringing the words of benediction, nor the intervention of
saints, who would enter through the walls, to tell her that Monseigneur
wished to see her. The only thing at which she wondered was the slowness
of the working of the marvel. Like the day, the nights succeeded nights,
yet nothing, nothing manifested itself.
At the close of the second week, that which astonished Angelique above
all was that she had not seen Felicien. She, it was true, had pledged
herself to take no steps towards meeting him, yet, without having said
so to anyone, she thought he would do all in his power to find her. But
the Clos-Marie remained deserted, and he no longer walked among the
wild grasses therein.
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