"Alas! mademoiselle—"
"In the name of my sainted mother, I adjure you to tell me the truth, Suzanne."
"The truth is, mademoiselle," replied the housekeeper, in a trembling voice, "the truth is, that, after a stormy scene between your parents, madame died; but—"
"Enough, my dear Suzanne," said Sabine, interrupting her. Then, passing her hand across her burning brow, she relapsed into a gloomy silence that no one dared to break.
"Segoffin," she said, at last, "you were my grandfather's faithful servant and trusted friend. You watched over my father in childhood; at all times, and under all circumstances, you have been blindly devoted to him. Is it true that my father, instead of being engaged in business as he said, has been privateering under the name of Captain l'Endurci?"
"Yes, mademoiselle, it is true," Segoffin answered, smothering a sigh.
After another brief silence, Sabine said:
"M. Onésime, I owe it to myself and I owe it to you to inform you of my determination. In happier days there was some talk of a marriage between us, but after what has occurred, after what you know and have just heard, you will not be surprised, I think, to hear me say that this world is no longer any place for me."
"Good Heavens! what do you mean, mademoiselle?" cried Onésime, in dismay.
"I have decided to retire to a convent, where I intend to end my days."