‘You threaten us!’ said Marie furiously.
‘Far from it,’ replied the other; ‘I would save rather than destroy you. Gaudin! I am ignorant what fearful influence has spellbound your better feelings; but I know that such is not your nature. Have I the slightest power—discarded, heart-broken as I am—that can snatch you from these fearful toils?’
‘Our absence will be remarked,’ observed the Marchioness coldly to Sainte-Croix; ‘let us rejoin the court.’
‘Hear me,’ cried Louise, seizing Gaudin’s hand, ‘for the last time perhaps on earth—hear me, Gaudin. By the recollection of what we once were to each other, although you scorn me now, and the shadowy remembrance of old times, before these terrible circumstances, whatever they may be, had thus turned your heart from me, and from your God. There is still time to make amends for all that has occurred. I do not speak for myself, for all those feelings have passed; but for you alone. Repent, and be happy,—for happy now you are not.’
The Good and Evil Angels
Gaudin made no reply, but his bosom heaved rapidly, betraying his internal emotion. Once he turned towards Louise Gauthier as if to speak: the words died on his tongue.
‘This is idle talk,’ said the Marchioness, as she drew Sainte-Croix to her side. ‘If you would not be taken for our accomplice, girl, you will keep silent as to what you have heard. Sainte-Croix, you are stupefied by this person’s raving. Will you not come with me, Gaudin?’
She seized his hand, and rapidly changing the tone of anger she had adopted to one of softness and affection, gazed tenderly at her lover, as her fair countenance resumed its tranquillity, and her eyes, beaming with gentleness and light, looked into Sainte-Croix’s, with an expression that thrilled his very soul.
‘Marie!’ cried Gaudin faintly, ‘take me where you list. In life or after it,—on earth or in hell, I am yours—yours only.’