Caroline had passed a sleepless night after the visit of Mere
Malheur, sometimes tossing on her solitary couch, Sometimes starting
up in terror. She rose and threw herself despairingly upon her
knees, calling on Christ to pardon her, and on the Mother of Mercies
to plead for her, sinner that she was, whose hour of shame and
punishment had come!
The mysterious letter brought by Mere Malheur, announcing that her
place of concealment was to be searched by the Governor, excited her
liveliest apprehensions. But that faded into nothingness in
comparison with the absolute terror that seized her at the thoughts
of the speedy arrival of her father in the Colony.
Caroline, overwhelmed with a sense of shame and contrition, pictured
to herself in darkest colors the anger of her father at the dishonor
she had brought upon his unsullied name.
She sat down, she rose up, she walked her solitary chamber, and
knelt passionately on the floor, covering her face with her hands,
crying to the Madonna for pity and protection.
Poor self-accuser! The hardest and most merciless wretch who ever
threw stones at a woman was pitiful in comparison with Caroline's
inexorable condemnation of herself.
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