“My dearest,” he said, “one of us must yield to the other. I know, and I tell you, that if I allow myself to be dragged away by you our ruin is complete. Then let yourself be guided—not dragged away—by me and save our souls alive.”
“And then—but I know what you will say: Hope! Every madman has his hobby!” and she smiled, a heart-rending smile of self-pity that might have drawn tears from a stone. “Hope! and if I die first?”
“No, no, you will not die ...” Leon murmured, taking her head between his hands as if she had been a child and kissing her.
“I am but a helpless thing,” stammered Pepa, who could hardly command her voice, “you can do what you will with me; but you are cruel.”
“And you will obey?”
“Nay, you need not ask; I have long obeyed you in intention. I used to dream that you came to see me, when you had in fact forgotten my very existence; that you commanded me to break with every duty, and I obeyed you with all the force of my will and desires. This submission was my only joy—a melancholy one! Do not blame me for the aberrations of a broken heart—I only tell you that you may see that if I would follow you to any crime, I shall not refuse to follow you when you lead me to do right.”
“Where would you have me lead you?” muttered Leon clasping his brow. “Tell me, if I were to say ...”
“What?” asked Pepa quickly and catching at his idea as a bird catches a seed before it can fall to the ground.
“The idea of flight has passed through your mind?“
“Oh! every idea in turn has passed through my mind.”