Disguise--exertion--could it be
possible? Nay, it must be! The soft touch of that little hand, the
speaking look of those lovely eyes, again thrilled through his very
soul, and he knew their meaning now. Mysterious, bewildering as it
was, the novice, the poor, exhausted, seeming boy--was Marie! Again he
owed his life to her, and the wild yearning to gaze on her again, to
clasp her to his bosom, to pour forth his gratitude, to soothe and
shield, became so painfully intense, as almost to banish the joy,
which her rescue from danger ought to have occasioned. Had it not been
for her refusal to bear witness against him, not even the month's
grace would have been allowed him; he would have been executed at
once. She had saved him then--she had saved him now! And his heart so
swelled he knew not how to contain its fulness, how to calm it down,
to wait till the Queen's further pleasure should be known. But hope
sprung up to give him comfort; Isabella would accomplish her intention
of conversion; Marie could never resist her, and then--then, oh! she
would be all, all his own, and life shine, for both the brighter, for
its former tempest clouds. Meanwhile, he had such sweet thoughts, such
lovely images, to rest on. He owed his life, his honor, to her; and he
thought that it was his devoted gratitude which so deepened love.
Pages:
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334