I fancy that I hear the further
development of his views. Go on, I conjure you.

"With all my heart. I only wish that the instruction which, thanks to our
angelic priest, I derived from the story of Rancey might be as profitable
to you as it was to me."

"This, then, also came from the Abbe Gabriel?"

"He related to me this kind of parable in support of his exhortations,"
replied Rodin. "Oh, sir! do I not owe to the consoling words of that
young priest all that has strengthened and revived my poor old broken
heart?"

"Then I shall listen to you with a double interest."

"Rancey was a man of the world," resumed Rodin, as he looked attentively
at Hardy; "a gentleman--young, ardent, handsome. He loved a young lady of
high rank. I cannot tell what impediments stood in the way of their
union. But this love, though successful, was kept secret, and every
evening Rancey visited his mistress by means of a private staircase. It
was, they say, one of those passionate loves which men feel but once in
their lives. The mystery, even the sacrifice made by the unfortunate
girl, who forgot every duty, seemed to give new charms to this guilty
passion. In the silence and darkness of secrecy, these two lovers passed
two years of voluptuous delirium, which amounted almost to ecstasy."

At these words Hardy started. For the first time of late his brow was
suffused with a deep blush; his heart throbbed violently; he remembered
that he too had once known the ardent intoxication of a guilty and hidden
love. Though the day was closing rapidly, Rodin cast a sidelong glance at
Hardy, and perceived the impression he had made. "Some times," he
continued, "thinking of the dangers to which his mistress was exposed, if
their connection should be discovered, Rancey wished to sever these
delicious ties; but the girl, beside herself with passion, threw herself
on the neck of her lover, and threatened him, in the language of intense
excitement, to reveal and to brave all, if he thought of leaving her. Too
weak and loving to resist the prayers of his mistress, Rancey again and
again yielded, and they both gave themselves up to a torrent of delight,
which carried them along, forgetful of earth and heaven!"

M. Hardy listened to Rodin with feverish and devouring avidity. The
Jesuit, in painting, with these almost sensual colors, an ardent and
secret love, revived in Hardy burning memories, which till now had been
drowned in tears. To the beneficent ca