“No! not cruel, wise. But I will be wiser. I shall go to-night.”
“To-night, Camille?” said Josephine, turning pale.
“Ay! for to-night I am strong; to-morrow I may be weak. To-night everything thrusts me on the right path. To-morrow everything will draw me from it. Do not cry, beloved one; you and I have a hard fight. We must be true allies; whenever one is weak, then is the time for the other to be strong. I have been weaker than you, to my shame be it said; but this is my hour of strength. A light from heaven shows me my path. I am full of passion, but like you I have honor. You are Raynal’s wife, and—Raynal saved my life.”
“Ah! is it possible? When? where? may Heaven bless him for it!”
“Ask HIM; and say I told you of it—I have not strength to tell it you, but I will go to-night.”
Then Josephine, who had resisted till all her strength was gone, whispered with a blush that it was too late to get a conveyance.
“I need none to carry my sword, my epaulets, and my love for you. I shall go on foot.”
Josephine said nothing, but she began to walk slower and slower. And so the unfortunate pair came along creeping slowly with drooping heads towards the gate of the Pleasaunce. There their last walk in this world must end. Many a man and woman have gone to the scaffold with hearts less heavy and more hopeful than theirs.
“Dry your eyes, Josephine,” said Camille with a deep sigh. “They are all out on the Pleasaunce.”
“No, I will not dry my eyes,” cried Josephine, almost violently. “I care for nothing now.”