But a sudden thought stopped her; she clasped her hands despairingly, and cried:
“My God! this suffering is beyond endurance!”
Prosper seemed to misconstrue her words.
“Your pity comes too late,” he said. “There is no happiness in store for one like myself, who has had a glimpse of divine felicity, had the cup of bliss held to his lips, and then dashed to the ground. There is nothing left to attach me to life. You have destroyed my holiest beliefs; I came forth from prison disgraced by my enemies; what is to become of me? Vainly do I question the future; for me there is no hope of happiness. I look around me to see nothing but abandonment, ignominy, and despair!”
“Prosper, my brother, my friend, if you only knew——”
“I know but one thing, Madeleine, and that is, that you no longer love me, and that I love you more madly than ever. Oh, Madeleine, God only knows how I love you!”
He was silent. He hoped for an answer. None came.
But suddenly the silence was broken by a stifled sob.
It was Madeleine’s maid, who, seated in a corner, was weeping bitterly.
Madeleine had forgotten her presence.