It is here my mundane life is to end with my love for Marie.
Henceforth she and I mean to live in the greatest seclusion. Oh, if we are only able to realise our dreams, our life will be one of enchantment.
But by how many cruel trials it will have been purchased.
For three months Marie has been weeping in secret! but little by little I have been able to overcome her resistance.
At last she has consented to fly with me.
Besides, she dare not, she cannot, remain here; she is about to become a mother!
And now, my faithful George, who has been living in Nantes to keep a watch on Duvallon, wrote me this morning that a man I cannot fail to recognise as Belmont arrived last night at the house of the old corsair.
I told Marie of his return, and then she decided.
How would she dare to appear before her husband?
And how could she bear the reproaches of her aunt?