"
The words of La Corriveau struck like sharp arrows into the soul of
the hapless girl.
"God help me, then!" exclaimed she, clasping her hands in agony.
"Oh, that I were dead and buried where only my Judge could find me
at the last day, for I have no hope, no claim upon man's mercy! The
world will stone me, dead or living, and alas! I deserve my fate.
It is not hard to die, but it is hard to bear the shame which will
not die with me!"
She cast her eyes despairingly upward as she uttered this, and did
not see the bitter smile return to the lips of La Corriveau, who
stood upright, cold and immovable before her, with fingers twitching
nervously, like the claws of a fury, in her little basket, while she
whispered to herself, "Is it time, is it time?" but she took not out
the bouquet yet.
Caroline came still nearer, with a sudden change of thought, and
clutching the dress of La Corriveau, cried out, "O woman, is this
all true? How can you know all this to be true of me, and you a
stranger?"
"I know it of a certainty, and I am come to help you.
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