moment. You are always a few seconds too late, and the barbel takes advantage to escape."
"Would you like to take my line, Suzel?"
"Willingly, Frantz."
"Then give me your canvas. We shall see whether I am more adroit with the needle than with the hook."
And the young girl took the line with trembling hand, while her swain plied the needle across the stitches of the embroidery. For hours together they thus exchanged soft words, and their hearts palpitated when the cork bobbed on the water. Ah, could they ever forget those charming hours, during which, seated side by side, they listened to the murmurs of the river?
The sun was fast approaching the western horizon, and despite the combined skill of Suzel and Frantz, there had not been a bite. The barbels had not shown themselves complacent, and seemed to scoff at the two young people, who were too just to bear them malice.
"We shall be more lucky another time, Frantz," said Suzel, as the young angler put up his still virgin hook.
"Let us hope so," replied Frantz.
Then walking side by side, they turned their steps towards the house, without exchanging a word, as mute as their shadows which stretched out before them. Suzel became very, very tall under the oblique rays of the setting sun. Frantz appeared very, very thin, like the long rod which he held in his hand.
They reached the burgomaster's house. Green tufts of grass bordered the shining pavement, and no one would have thought of tearing them away, for they deadened the noise made by the passers-by.
As they were about to open the door, Frantz, thought it his duty to say to Suzel:
"You know, Suzel, the great day is approaching?"
"It is indeed, Frantz," replied the young girl, with downcast eyes.
"Yes," said Frantz, "in five or six years———"
"Good-bye, Frantz," said Suzel.
"Good-bye Suzel," replied Frantz.
And, after the door had been closed, the young man resumed the way to his father's house with a calm and equal pace.
