"I am sure
he meant it!" repeated she to herself. "I feel that his words were
true, and for the moment his look and tone were those of my happy
maiden days in Acadia! I was too proud then of my fancied power,
and thought Bigot's love deserved the surrender of my very
conscience to his keeping. I forgot God in my love for him; and,
alas for me! that now is part of my punishment! I feel not the sin
of loving him! My penitence is not sincere when I can still rejoice
in his smile! Woe is me! Bigot! Bigot! unworthy as thou art, I
cannot forsake thee! I would willingly die at thy feet, only spurn
me not away, nor give to another the love that belongs to me, and
for which I have paid the price of my immortal soul!"
She relapsed into a train of bitter reflections as her thoughts
reverted to herself. Silence had been gradually creeping through
the house. The noisy debauch was at an end. There were trampings,
voices, and footfalls for a while longer, and then they died away.
Everything was still and silent as the grave. She knew the feast
was over and the guests departed; but not whether Bigot had
accompanied them.
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