"And the cattle-merchant at Poissy?"
"That affair can never be brought to light,—there are no proofs. I own it to you, in proof of the sincerity with which I am speaking, but before any other person I should deny all knowledge of the business."
"You confess it, then, do you?"
"I was destitute, without the smallest means of living,—the Chouette instigated me to do it; but now I sincerely repent ever having listened to her. I do, indeed. Ah! would you but generously save me from the hands of justice, I would promise you most solemnly to forsake all such evil practices for the future."
"Be satisfied, your life shall be spared; neither will I deliver you into the hands of the law."
"Do you, then, pardon me?" exclaimed the Schoolmaster, as though doubting what he heard. "Can it be? Can you be so generous as to forgive?"
"I both judge you and award your sentence," cried Rodolph, in a solemn tone. "I will not surrender you to the power of the laws, because they would condemn you to the galleys or the scaffold; and that must not be. No, for many reasons. The galleys would but open a fresh field for the development of your brutal strength and villainy, which would soon be exercised in endeavouring to obtain domination over the guilty or unfortunate beings you would be associated with, to render yourself a fresh object of horror or of dread; for even crime has its ambition, and yours has long consisted in a preëminence in vicious deeds and monstrous vices, while your iron frame would alike defy the labours of the oar or the chastisement of those set over you. And the strongest chains may be broken, the thickest wall pierced through,—steep ramparts have been scaled before now,—and you might one day burst your yoke and be again let loose upon society, like an infuriated beast, marking your passage with murder and destruction; for none would be safe from your Herculean strength, or from the sharpness of your knife; therefore such consequences must be avoided. But since the galleys might fail to stop your infamous career, how is society to be preserved from your brutal violence? The scaffold comes next in consideration—"
"It is my life, then, you seek!" cried the ruffian. "My life! Oh, spare it!"
"Peace, coward! Hope not that I mean so speedy a termination to your just punishment. No; your eager craving after a wretched existence would prevent you from suffering the agony of anticipated death, and, far from dwelling upon the scaffold and the block, your guilty soul would be filled with schemes of escape and hopes of pardon; neither would you believe you were truly doomed to die till in the very grasp of the executioner; and even in that terrible moment it is probable that, brutalised by terror, you would be a mere mass of human flesh, offered up by justice as an expiatory offering to the manes of your victims. That mode of settling your long and heavy accounts will not half pay the debt. No; poor, wretched, trembling craven! we must devise a more terrific method of atonement for you. At the scaffold, I repeat, you would cling to hope while one breath remained within you; wretch that you are, you would dare to hope! you, who have denied all hope and mercy to so many unhappy beings! No, no! unless you repent, and that with all your heart, for the misdeeds of your infamous life, I would (in this world, at least) shut out from you the faintest glimmer of hope—"
"What man is this? What have I ever done to injure him?—whence comes he thus to torture me?—where am I?" asked the Schoolmaster, in almost incoherent tones, and nearly frantic with terror.