my kindly intentions towards the young
novice, who, from that time forward, was placed at my disposal.

The reading had no other object than to gain her confidence, and as soon
as we were alone I bade her tell me all. After brief hesitation, the
poor child thus began:

"In a week's time, a most awful ceremony takes place in this monastery.
The term of my novitiate has already expired, and had it not been for the
distractions caused by your visit, I should have already been obliged to
take this awful oath and make my vows.

"Madame de Mortemart is gentle and kind (no wonder! she is your sister),
but she has decided that I am to be one of her nuns, and nothing on earth
can induce her to change her mind. If this fatal decree be executed, I
shall never live to see this year of desolation reach its close. Perhaps
I may fall dead at the feet of the Bishop who ordains us.

"They would have me give to God--who does not need it--my whole life as a
sacrifice. But, madame, I cannot give my God this life of mine, as four
years ago I surrendered it wholly to some one else. Yes, madame," said
she, bursting into tears, "I am the lawful wife of the Vicomte d'Olbruze,
my cousin german.

"Of this union, planned and approved by my dear mother herself, a child
was born, which my ruthless father refuses to recognise, and which kindly
peasants are bringing up in the depths of the woods.

"My dear, good mother was devotedly fond of my lover, who was her nephew.
From our very cradles she had always destined us for each other. And she
persisted in making this match, despite her husband, whose fortune she
had immensely increased, and one day during his absence we were legally
united by our family priest in the castle chapel. My father, who, was
away at sea, came back soon afterwards: He was enraged at my mother's
disobedience, and in his fury attempted to stab her with his own hand. He
made several efforts to put an end to her existence, and the general
opinion in my home is that he was really the author of her death.

"Devotedly attached to my husband by ties of love no less than of duty, I
fled with him to his uncle's, an old knight-commander of Malta, whose
sole heir he was. My father, with others, pursued us thither, and scaled
the walls of our retreat by night, resolved to kill his nephew first and
me afterwards. Roused by the noise of the ruffians, my husband seized
his firearms. Three of his assailants he shot from the bal