"Pierre went on pretending to read, but in reality listening with acute tension of ear to every little sound.

His perceptions became so sensitive in this respect that he was incapable of measuring time, every moment had seemed so full of noises, from the beating of his heart up to the roll of the heavy carts in the distance.

He wondered whether Virginie would have reached the place of rendezvous, and yet he was unable to compute the passage of minutes.

His mother slept soundly: that was well.

By this time Virginie must have met the 'faithful cousin:' if, indeed, Morin had not made his appearance.
"At length, he felt as if he could no longer sit still, awaiting the issue, but must run out and see what course events had taken.