He shuddered and went away a little, but the night was so black that he could not, even at this distance, distinguish if it were Madame de Rênal. He was frightened of her crying out at first in alarm. He heard the dogs prowling and growling around the foot of the ladder. "It is I," he repeated fairly loudly. "A friend."
No answer. The white phantom had disappeared.
"Deign to open to me. I must speak to you. I am too unhappy." And he knocked hard enough to break the pane.
A crisp sound followed. The casement fastening of the window yielded. He pushed the casement and leaped lightly into the room.
The white phantom flitted away from him. He took hold of its arms. It was a woman. All his ideas of courage vanished. "If it is she, what is she going to say?" What were his emotions when a lit
