odoriferous hills, knew how deeply he loved her, for he
had spoken of his thraldom to them when he might not speak to her under
pain of shame and debasement.

Had he not undergone enough and pardoned as far as could be expected?
But she had disdained condonation, mocked at it and trampled it under
foot.

Again she came to entangle him in her love. No; her wiles and witchery,
for she was not a woman to love anyone or anything. Unable to love her
own flesh and blood, she was an alien to humanity, as well as to love.
To such a mother, he owed solely indifference.

Such a woman was only a human form, less to him than the least of the
patient, laborious animals useful to man.

As the stars grew darkened by clouds above the impassible horizon, his
reflections turned more gloomy and deadly. Was it impious for him to
arrogate the right to substitute his justice for that supreme, and wield
its dreadful sword? But he shrank from acting as his father had done,
and mainly because he saw that, if ever the world knew that he loved
Rebecca, it would say that he had slain his wife to clear the path to
the altar for his second marriage.

Cesarine had hinted of repentance, her return portended the same. The
world would side with her. Yes; he would give her another chance. After
the guests departed, he would let Antonino also go, he would resign
himself to being coupled again with this chain-companion in the galleys
of life!

"If it is true," he concluded, "I will endeavor to lead her to the light
and truth, although her soul is full of shadows and the divine spark is
clogged with ashes. Oh, heaven, may she be filled with the temptation to
do good and mayest thou receive her in thy endless mercifulness!"

The squeaking of the gravel under a regular and heavy step induced him
to look round, and a burly shape loomed up in the darkness between the
plane trees. It was the so-called Cantagnac, who bowed, with his hat
off.

"I have been hunting for you everywhere," he said jovially. "I want to
say good-bye without company by, for it makes me timid, ha, ha! though
you would not think it. Nice wholesome air, here! cool, decidedly cool,
but wholesome. Doing a solitary smoke over a new invention?"

"No, monsieur, I was conversing."

"Eh! but I do not see anybody!"

"I was conversing with Nature."

"Oh, what the poet-fellows call musing, eh?"

"A kind of prayer."

"I see! well, his church is always open and you can go to service