the mantel; "undress yourself, and go to sleep if it is possible
for you to do so. It is not necessary for Justine to make any comments
tomorrow about your day clothes not having been removed."

Instead of obeying him, she went toward him and tried to remain standing
in order to speak to him, but her emotion was so intense that it took
away her strength and she was obliged to sit down.

"You treat me too cruelly, Christian," said she, when she had succeeded
to recover her voice. "I am not guilty; at least, not so much as you
think I am--" said she, drooping her head.

He looked at her attentively for a moment, and then replied, in a voice
which did not betray the slightest emotion:

"You must know that my greatest desire is to be persuaded of this by
you. I know that too often appearances are deceitful; perhaps you
will be able to explain to me what took place last evening; I am still
inclined to believe your word. Swear to me that you do not love Monsieur
de Gerfaut."

"I swear it!" said she, in a weak voice, and without raising her eyes.

He went to the bed and took down a little silver crucifix which was
hanging above it.

"Swear it to me upon this crucifix," said he, presenting it to his wife.

She tried in vain to raise her hand, which seemed fastened to the arm of
her chair.

"I swear it!" she stammered a second time, while her face became as pale
as death.

A savage laugh escaped Christian's lips. He put the crucifix in its
place again without saying a word, then he opened the secret panel and,
taking out the casket, placed it upon the table before his wife. She
made a movement as if to seize it, but her courage failed her.

"You have perjured yourself to your husband and to God!" said Bergenheim
slowly. "Do you know what kind of woman you are?"

Clemence remained for some time powerless to reply; her respiration was
so painful that each breath seemed like suffocation; her head, after
rolling about on the back of the chair, fell upon her breast, like a
blade of grass broken and bruised by the rain.

"If you have read those letters," she murmured, when she had strength
enough to speak, "you must know that I am not as unworthy as you think.
I am very guilty--but I still have a right to be forgiven."

Christian, at this moment, had he been gifted with the intelligence
which fathoms the mysteries of the heart, might have renewed the bonds
which were so near being broken; he could at least have stopped