d.

Another reflection was, how just it is that sin and shame follow one
another so constantly at the heels; that they are not like attendants
only, but, like cause and consequence, necessarily connected one with
another; that the crime going before, the scandal is certain to follow;
and that 'tis not in the power of human nature to conceal the first, or
avoid the last.

"What shall I do, Amy?" said I, as soon as I could speak, "and what will
become of me?" And then I cried again so vehemently that I could say no
more a great while. Amy was frighted almost out of her wits, but knew
nothing what the matter was; but she begged to know, and persuaded me to
compose myself, and not cry so. "Why, madam, if my master should come up
now," says she, "he will see what a disorder you are in; he will know
you have been crying, and then he will want to know the cause of it."
With that I broke out again. "Oh, he knows it already, Amy," says I, "he
knows all! 'Tis all discovered, and we are undone!" Amy was
thunderstruck now indeed. "Nay," says Amy, "if that be true, we are
undone indeed; but that can never be; that's impossible, I'm sure."

"No, no," says I, "'tis far from impossible, for I tell you 'tis so."
And by this time, being a little recovered, I told her what discourse my
husband and the captain had had together, and what the captain had said.
This put Amy into such a hurry that she cried, she raved, she swore and
cursed like a mad thing; then she upbraided me that I would not let her
kill the girl when she would have done it, and that it was all my own
doing, and the like. Well, however, I was not for killing the girl yet.
I could not bear the thoughts of that neither.

We spent half-an-hour in these extravagances, and brought nothing out of
them neither; for indeed we could do nothing or say nothing that was to
the purpose; for if anything was to come out-of-the-way, there was no
hindering it, or help for it; so after thus giving a vent to myself by
crying, I began to reflect how I had left my spouse below, and what I
had pretended to come up for; so I changed my gown that I pretended the
candle fell upon, and put on another, and went down.

When I had been down a good while, and found my spouse did not fall into
the story again, as I expected, I took heart, and called for it. "My
dear," said I, "the fall of the candle put you out of your history,
won't you go on with it?" "What history?" says he. "Why," says I, "about