It was
the unspoken words of her own troubled thoughts and the terrors
newly awakened in her soul!
Angelique seized the hand of La Corriveau, not without a shudder.
She drew her hastily up to her chamber and thrust her into a chair.
Placing both hands upon the shoulders of La Corriveau, she looked
wildly in her face, exclaiming in a half exultant, half piteous
tone, "Is it done? Is it really done? I read it in your eyes! I
know you have done the deed! Oh, La Corriveau!"
The grim countenance of the woman relaxed into a half smile of scorn
and surprise at the unexpected weakness which she instantly noted in
Angelique's manner.
"Yes, it is done!" replied she, coldly, "and it is well done! But,
by the manna of St. Nicholas!" exclaimed she, starting from the
chair and drawing her gaunt figure up to its full height, while her
black eyes shot daggers, "you look, Mademoiselle, as if you repented
its being done. Do you?"
"Yes! No! No, not now!" replied Angelique, touched as with a hot
iron. "I will not repent now it is done! that were folly, needless,
dangerous, now it is done! But is she dead? Did you wait to see if
she were really dead? People look dead sometimes and are not! Tell
me truly, and conceal nothing!"
"La Corriveau does not her work by halves, Mademoiselle, neither do
you; only you talk of repentance after it is done, I do not! That
is all the difference! Be satisfied; the lady of Beaumanoir is
dead! I made doubly sure of that, and deserve a double reward from
you!"
"Reward! You shall have all you crave! But what a secret between
you and me!" Angelique looked at La Corriveau as if this thought
now struck her for the first time.
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