"'England! In spite of the despair that overwhelms me as I write, the mere name of that country (which I hate with an even more mortal hatred since the dastardly attempt of which you so narrowly escaped becoming the victim) brings a hot flush of anger to my cheek; my wrath kindles again, and—
"'But forgive me, forgive me, my poor child, forgive me for thus grieving your tender and ingenuous heart, which is incapable of aught like hatred.
"'I did feel it necessary, however, to explain all the reasons that actuated me in entering upon the only career that seemed open to me.
"'My decision made, I kissed you farewell while you were sleeping, and departed in company with Segoffin.'"
Onésime's reading was here interrupted by a despairing sob that Sabine could no longer repress.
CHAPTER XXII.
CONCLUSION.
Sabine had been deeply touched by the opening paragraphs of her father's letter.
Cloarek's simple and straightforward confession, his deep remorse at the ebullition of temper which had been the cause of his wife's death, his resolve to expiate his faults, or, rather, to make them assist in ensuring his daughter's future happiness, the paternal love which dominated every word and deed, all combined to arouse a feeling of tender commiseration for misfortunes which had been due, in a great measure, at least, to peculiarities of temperament; and seeing the strong impression that had been made on the young girl, the others saw a ray of hope.
Segoffin and the housekeeper exchanged inquiring glances, but seemed to silently agree that it would be advisable to make no comment, but leave Sabine to the influence of her own reflections.
But after a few moments, Suzanne, leaning toward her nephew, whispered in his ear: