"That Sunday, on hearing my discourse, to which my indignation lent great energy, the eyes of all our mountaineers were turned towards this unfortunate woman who was humbly kneeling in their midst. She bent her head lower, and covered her face with the folds of her veil, while from the convulsive movements of her shoulders she seemed to be weeping bitterly. I was elated with triumph, for I thought I had awakened the spirit of remorse in a guilty soul. When holy service was over I returned to the presbytery.
"While I had no fear for the anger of the count, who might justly take offence at my allusions, I was nevertheless preoccupied as to the effect on him of my discourse.
"The next day he came to see me.
"When my sister came to announce his visit, I could not help feeling a certain emotion, but his manner was as cordial as on the former occasion. He said not a word about the sermon of the previous day, but spoke about the needs of our poor people. He had come to speak to me of a project he had of establishing a school for the children of the parish under my direction, communicated to me his ideas on the subject, showed what I thought to be a wise and remarkable distinction between the education which ought to be given to children who were destined to manual labour, and that which would be suitable for those who intended to follow the liberal professions. He disclosed in this conversation, during which I again fell under his charm, the highest and broadest views, and a spirit of maturity and justice. Then he quitted me.
"Alas! monsieur, how inexplicable are the weaknesses of our poor human nature! I was almost offended by the count's apparent indifference to my sermon, whereas he showed, by the moderation of his behaviour, a respectful submission to the duty which my convictions and my nature imposed on me.
"Soon afterwards, one of the great festivals of the Church drew nigh. I went to the church to hear the confessions of our mountain people, and as I was about to enter the confessional I saw among the peasants this same woman, who was humbly kneeling like all the rest on the cold, moist stone floor. She waited there a long time, and came in her turn to the penitential tribunal.
"I am far from indulgent towards our peasants, but I know not why I should have felt myself disposed to be unusually severe to a person whose rank seemed to place her above them. The lady's voice was trembling with emotion, her accent was timid and sweet; and without here disclosing one of our greatest, one of our most sacred secrets, since, alas! monsieur, I only tell you the facts which have since been made public by a frightful event, I recognised that day, and from thenceforth, a most noble and repentant soul, but at the same time most weak and guilty in its criminal attachment to the count. This attachment resembled a sort of exaltation which, were it not almost a profanation of the words, I might describe as holy and religious.
"What more can I tell you, monsieur! After six months' residence in our part of the country, the count and this lady, whom our peasants in their grateful simplicity called 'l'Ange Marie' (for no one had ever heard her called by any name but Marie),—the count and this lady had been so charitable that one could hardly find an unhappy creature in the whole parish. What is more, such was the strange confidence that our mountaineers had in the inexhaustible beneficence of this sweet soul, that if sometimes I would seek to deter them from some perilous hunting excursion by reminding them of their families, should any of them perish, they would reply to me, 'Father, the Angel Marie will take care of them.' In short, this lady had become the providence of the village, and the poor folks relied on her goodness as on the bon Dieu.
"At the end of a year this beloved and blessed lady fell dangerously ill. At the sad news, I cannot describe to you, monsieur, the fear or the despair of our peasants, the prayers, the ex-voto which they offered for her, the desolation which reigned in the village.
"Fearing to compromise the rigorous severity of my character, although the count had been to see me every day I had never been to return any of his visits; but when that lady was very ill, and asked for me, and the count came and besought me to go to her, I could not refuse to do so. I found her apparently dying.