ned mute for a long time; then she said, "It is true that I was not
prepared for the rebuke you have given me, but you acted conscientiously as
a good and honest priest. I know you must be bound by certain laws."

She then pressed my hand with her cold hand and said, "Weep not, dear
Father, because that sudden storm has wrecked my too fragile back. This
storm was to take me out from the bottomless sea of my iniquities to the
shore where Jesus was waiting to receive and pardon me. The night after you
brought me, half dead, here to father's house, I had a dream. Oh, no, it
was not a dream, it was a reality. My Jesus came to me; He was bleeding.
His crown of thorns was on His head, the heavy cross was bruising His
shoulders. He said to me, with a voice so sweet that no human tongue can
imitate it, "I have seen thy tears, I have heard thy cries, and I know thy
love for Me: thy sins are forgiven. Take courage; in a few days thou shalt
be with Me!'"

She had hardly finished her last word when she fainted, and I feared lest
she should die just then when I was alone with her.

I called the family, who rushed into the room. The doctor was sent for. He
found her so weak that he thought proper to allow only one or two persons
to remain in the room. He requested us not to speak at all, "For," said he,
"the least emotion may kill her instantly; her disease is, in all
probability, an aneurism of the aorta, the big vein which brings the blood
to the heart; when it breaks she will go as quick as lightning."

It was nearly ten at night when I left the house, to go and take some rest.
But it is not necessary to say that I passed a sleepless night. My dear
Mary was there, pale, dying from the deadly blow which I had given her in
the confessional. She was there, on her bed of death, her heart pierced
with the dagger which my Church had put into my hands! And instead of
rebuking, cursing me for my savage, merciless fanaticism, she was blessing
me! She was dying from a broken heart, and I was not allowed by my Church
to give her a single word of consolation and hope, for she had not yet made
her confession! I had mercilessly bruised that tender plant, and there was
nothing in my hands to heal the wounds I had made!

It was very probable that she would die the next day, and I was forbidden
to show her the crown of glory which Jesus has prepared in His kingdom for
the repenting sinner!

My desolation was really unspeakable, and I think I w