It was their last evening, for, the day before yesterday, at the Mayor's office of Saint-Jean-de-Luz, he had, with a hand trembling a little, signed his engagement for three years in the Second naval¹ infantry², whose garrison³ was a military port of the North.
 
It was their last evening,—and they had said that they would make it longer than usual,—it would last till midnight, Gracieuse had decided⁴: midnight, which in the villages is an unseasonable and black hour, an hour after which, she did not know why, all seemed to the little betrothed⁵ graver and guiltier.
 
In spite of the ardent⁶ desire of their senses, the idea had not come to one nor to the other that, during this last meeting, under the oppression of parting, something more might be attempted.
 
On the contrary, at the instant so full of concentration of their farewell, they felt more chaste⁷ still, so eternal was their love.
 
Less prudent⁸, however, since they had not to care for the morrow, they dared to talk there, on their lovers' bench, as they had never done before. They talked of the future, of a future which was for them very distant, because, at their age, three years seem infinite.
 
In three years, at his return, she would be twenty; then, if her mother persisted to refuse in an absolute manner, at the end of a year she would use her right of majority, it was between them an agreed and a sworn thing.
 
The means of correspondence, during the long absence of Ramuntcho, preoccupied⁹ them a great deal: between them, everything was so complicated by obstacles and secrets!—Arrochkoa, their only possible intermediary, had promised his help; but he was so changeable, so uncertain!—Oh, if he were to fail!—And then, would he consent to send sealed letters?—If he did not consent there would be no pleasure in writing.—In our time, when communications are easy and constant, there are no more of these complete separations similar to the one which theirs would be; they were to say to each other a very solemn farewell, like the one which the lovers of other days said, the lovers of the days when there were lands without post-offices, and distances that frightened one. The fortunate time when they should see each other again appeared to them situated¹⁰ far off, far off, in the depths of duration; yet, because of the faith which they had in each other, they expected this with a tranquil¹¹ assurance, as the faithful expect celestial¹² life.
 
But the least things of their last evening acquired in their minds a singular importance; as this farewell came near, all ............