xtinguished it. The
antechamber was at some distance from his bedchamber, and we were,
therefore, left in utter darkness. At first he called me by name; but,
finding that I did not reply, he exclaimed, in a voice trembling with
rage and passion, 'If you try to escape from me, your father shall go to
prison for the thirteen hundred francs he owes, and is unable to pay.' I
besought him to have pity on me, promised to do all in my power to serve
him faithfully, and with gratitude for all his goodness to my family,
but declared that no consideration on earth should induce me to disgrace
myself or those I belonged to."

"There spoke my Louise," said Morel, "or, rather, as she would have
spoken in her days of proud innocence. How, then, if such were your
sentiments--But go on, go on."

"I was still concealed by the darkness, which I trusted would preserve
me, when I heard the door closed which led from the antechamber, and
which my master had contrived to find by groping along the wall. Thus,
having me wholly in his power, he returned to his chamber for a light,
with which he quickly returned, and then commenced a fresh attack, the
particulars of which, my dearest father, I will not venture to
describe; suffice it, that promises, threats, violence, all were tried;
but anger, fear, and despair armed me with fresh strength, and, while I
continually eluded his grasp, and fled for safety from room to room, his
rage at my determined resistance knew no bounds. In his fury he even
struck me with such frenzied violence as to leave my features streaming
with blood."

"You hear! you hear!" exclaimed the lapidary, raising his clasped hands
towards heaven, "and are crimes like this to go unpunished? Shall such a
monster escape and not pay a heavy penalty for his wickedness?"

"Trust me," said Rodolph, who seemed profoundly meditating on what he
heard, "trust me, this man's time and hour will come. But continue your
painful narration, my poor girl, and shrink not from telling us even its
blackest details."

"The struggle between us had now gone on so long that my strength began
to fail me. I was conscious of my own inability to resist further, when
the porter, who had returned home, rang the bell twice,--the usual
signal when letters arrived and required to be fetched from his hands.
Fearing that, if I did not obey the summons, the porter would bring the
letters himself, M. Ferrand said, 'Go; utter but one word, and to-morrow
sees y